There is no Peace, no mothers
Advice to describe the plight
Of awareness. No suckled milk,
No fists of strife can inner-out
Without the light
Of awareness.

There is no stability after
What’s touted, nor before
What’s thought would be…
My mistake.

Have you ever noticed the ‘feel’
Of tears? Some are so hot, they run
Sere down your face, with saltiness
Sticking to your skin. Some start
luke-warm, and trickle down,
Becoming coldly opposite,
In extremes.

Don’t you feel vain, sometimes,
After serving out your tears, when
Thought-meanings become nothing,
In passing fears, under control.
I flout you, pill, with hopes
Of calmer ways to mind my thoughts.

But, not right now…

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 1/12/06