Riding the edge
Between consciousness and creation,
Stillness and action,
Being and doing.
Not one, not two. 

Along that edge,
There is an opening inside me,
A letting go and stepping,
Each moment,
Into the unknown
Of the next. 

I don’t want to live
Tired and dogmatic,
Going through the motions. 

I want to awaken to life
And devote myself
To its flowering
And unfolding. 

I want to open,
Like a window,
The sun’s rays
Streaming through me. 

Through pain,
Through pleasure.
The dust motes
Dancing in the light.