Cycle...

Cycle
Robert Montgomery


So what is poetry?
Have I grown?
Still questioning so much.
Still stretching
and questioning.
Perhaps that is growth...
the constant upheaval
of accepted truth...
unearthing the new
from the decay
of yesterday.

Walking fresh
into the now...
Readying the soil
for new growth
and expansion...
The cycle returning
to birth...
in every breath taken
is life given
and in every exhale
is life returned.

This dance
is one
of constant release
for these hands
can only hold
the present.
This soul
is guardian
of the now.

Here I am
once again...
shaking off the chains
of illusion
stepping out
of the story line
the plot...
emerging
radiant...
focused...
expansive!

This oneness
the truth
of all truths...
this connection
the real high of life...
all knowing mine
for the asking
all meaningless
and divinely
immense.

I am
in the garden
and of the garden.
I have never left.
We never left.
The illusion
is the gate
for how to exit
that which is
everything.