The Rock

Let me speak:

Sleeping at this place

Or at least trying.

A stone for my pillow,

There is no comfort here.

I obsess and worry,

I have made such a mess.

I see steps that could take me away.

There could be happiness,

There could be One-ness,

But not yet.

I want so much.

I want to be of help,

I want to do good,

I want to experience everything,

I want to be wanted.

I watch so many others make the effort

But I don't know what it leads to.

I stare through the bars of every unlocked gate,
But I don't go in.

What if all it leads to is oblivion?

Only pain, then nothing?
No one will remember a thing.

I'm an idiot,

A fraud!

Over confident and messy,

Brash and hurtful,

Selfish and false,

No one needs me.
Soon it will not matter.

Amidst all this self-pity

I have one thing to hold onto.

Yes,

It's that stone pillow

For my hard hard head.

It tried to make me comfortable,
In its own rocky way.
I asked for a place to sleep and it said,

Here I am.

In the morning I will be exhausted.

I probably will have slept but I won't remember having done so.

I will move on, because that's what I do.

I will leave behind the stone pillow
In this place

As my assertion

That I saw what there was to see,

That I considered my options

And that maybe I will return,

And maybe not,

To this rock.  

For this is not a trifling thing.