Out of myself, and dangerously, so to speak,
Purgatory is manifest, and that is all
That consumes too much energy. It shouldn’t be
Wasted on idle worrying incessantly.
How could I ever get used to feeling so small?
I do not want to see the contents of my creek.

Constant is the dilemma. To get things to flow,
Like the blood through its vessels, or current through wires…
Takes what I’m sorely lacking. All that I can do
Is exist in psychosis, always feeling blue.
Rather than pumping increase into my desires
Can I lessen resistance and mitigate woe?

Paralyzed by depression, the motion I need
To take place in an instant takes forever long.
In the meantime, as creditors’ calls gain in strength,
Fear that I will end up going to any length
To escape the torment including doing wrong
Eats away at my essence. For freedom I plead.

There is balance between my belief and desire.
How I can best achieve it is not to feel bad.
It’s one hell of a challenge given how things are.
I must know that relief from my pain isn’t far.
Can I honor this journey and learn to be glad
Even though my circumstances seem so damned dire?

In the realm of the spirit, I promised that I
Would have many desires – some of them very strong,
And that I’d know the difference, by how I feel,
Whether or not I’m close to my chosen ideal.
I can do nothing else but stay where I belong –
In that state of allowing, not needing to try.