letting go of holding on 6/13/19

the only grip there is 

is the complete free-fall 

of letting go.

for the sense of overall might 

is minuscule

in discovering 

that I am only the content 

of my keptness,

a curator of that capture

in servitude of self-ness

a lighthouse 

on a dry seabed 

of muted reflections,

a 360 degree view 

of a bird-less sky,

a concubine of ink 

kept in a page-less book,

numbering the day after day 

of senselessness, 

from cover to cover.

the integrity of being

doesn’t have a handle

but assuredly has a blade.

swift is the blade edge

and not the escort of intent.

the conduit lives

while the container is in comatose.

nothing is ever featured

if one is in a fluid state.

every blink is a whiplash to my seeing

until I stopped looking

and live within the inner gaze.

there, free-fall is up-lifting

I only have falling

if I come from separation.

I am more of emptiness 

between my cells of substance.

I am more of spirit in the sky

then substance here on earth.

letting go of holding on

is to release memory from its tasks

mindfullness from its certitude

and me-myself-and-I from its conviction . . .