Without Motive

All the searching was not pointless,

But was without destination.

All the learning created thoughts and memory,

But did not bring me peace;

Rather, the hunger increased.


All the lovers brought experience,

To each other, but, like a lit candle, could not sustain itself.

All the suffering, did not produce meaning,

But rather fortitude, reinforcing the ego.


Only surrender gave me something,

As I looked desperately for meaning.

For the one within me,

And it too failed, through too much desire.


Now, my desire neutered,

I find myself placed, awaiting …


It has won.


So I contemplate nothingness, and wallow in my lack of purposefulness,

To determine if this is not another destination,

A dark night of the soul,

On my journey.


Or if I am home, and this is it. Being.

Lost in Transit


Today I left the station without belongings,

Seemingly on my way to work,

Or some other destination which I should have known.

This time, however, I just followed the crowd.


There were no subway maps,

No indicators as to how I might get there,

So I jumped on and followed a group which seemed like-minded,

Or rather like-dressed.


I disembarked with them at some major intersection of routes,

Not knowing which way to turn,

But felt I was on my way.