Omanza Eugene Shaw

FLOOD WATERS

Like flood waters rising,
sadness creeps along
her distant shores,
engulfing first her mind,
then the aura of her lonely soul.
soon, her spirit too succumbs
to self-inflicted wounds;
imagination gone wild,
she decides and chooses,
substituting joy for renewed despair.

Haunted by ulterior motives . . .
false hopes . . . past desires,
she weeps tears of bitter anguish,
frustrated.
not knowing herself,
and knowing not that she knows not,
she yet yearns to fathom the ultimate mystery . . .
a bird above the clouds,
who, unlike her, may indeed know
that he knows not himself.
futile.

To those who would ponder,
the answer lies within, hidden,
like the sound of speeding light . . .
this moment is only what is,
or matters, since,
like flood waters receding,
all else returns to illusions
of whence we evolved,
leaving nought but
the essence of being
eternally recreating itself.