The Lake

When the winds of desire die down
and the hand of ignorance folds,
the stillness of our quiet slumber
turns the mind’s lake placid

We reap the bounties of forgotten bliss
as the rest of our machinery sleeps.
If only we could remain awake
to witness such ripple-free quietude

As the lake renews itself
drop by drop by drop
it prepares for the countless thoughts
that churn the depths upon waking

One cannot swim through the lake
when hands and feet are busy elsewhere,
and want makes us rigid as a stone
dropping us straight to the bottom 

Unable to move or rise, we helplessly watch
while supple thoughts swim with gentle ease.
They own the lake, but we can be friends
once we tame the headwinds of desire

Ripple

In one moment of time
life is wrapped up tight.
Find still water and set  
your ripple in motion
to your true nature.