Getting to the place where you just are being
Trying to close off the doors of worry and live into
Feeling, being present, breathing, your heart
Everything sharpens and floats, not staying
Not attached to it, free, flying, hearing sound
More profound in the quieting, thoughts come and go
As birds on a wing, not invaders of the space
Just there, no certain way of attainment nor nothingness
Just like the swallow flying on the lake, so close
Not plunging when it dives and weaves, just
Floating round and about, a good rest, time to be
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