Sitting on the edge of time, seeking for something inside
I’m trying to be my authentic self, trying not to hide
It’s a struggle to be sure, there is overwhelming illusion
It’s a miracle not to be forever lost in utter confusion
Perchance it’s right there in the unvarnished present moment
The sublime awareness of the perfection of chaotic foment
Surely we have the choice of ephemeral glory
Or the peace of mind of realizing the true story.
I love that poem, Is it yours? If so I see why you are a published author!
Thanks Melinda. Yes I wrote it.
Jeff