The Mystery of Being

​

I loved it when we put aside

being just another

beautiful young woman

and a strange old man,

when we reached across

those imaginary boundaries

to share some curiosity and talk.

 

And didn’t we chat about our lives

and our trips

and all the things that we do?

And didn’t you ask me about that present moment stuff

and, ‘What’s that all about for you?’

 

The magic thing about then was,

You let go!

- of the narrative

you were engaged with in your head

and the space that opened up

was quite a different way

of coming to life.

- in the mystery of being, together,

the mystery of being.

 

And didn’t we find ourselves

entirely as we were,

together in just this,

this unexpected bliss?

And didn’t we fall into the river of now,

no stories attached?

 

It was only later on,

when I saw you over dinner;

you were staring at me.

Your face was straining like

you needed to poo

and I knew just what it was

you were trying to do.

​

Oh no!

Where do you think you need to get to?

Oh no!

Don’t you remember how it happened?

​

The magic thing about then was,

You let go!

- of the narrative

you were engaged with in your head

and the space that opened up

was quite a different way

of coming to life

- in the mystery of being,

the mystery of being.

 

Yes, I loved it when we put aside

being just another

beautiful young woman

and a strange old man,

when we reached across

those imaginary boundaries

to share some curiosity and Be

- in the mystery of being,

the mystery of being.