Snowball rainfall
I pop an umbrella to claim
a dry zone amongst the drip,
but these plastic panels
these platform shoes,
this Matcha green tea in hand,
this partly-done lesson plan,
none of it is me,
nor does it belong to anybody.
As much as the space above my head,
is altered, but not possessed,
the greatest lesson I’ve learned yet
is to let go of entitlement.
Only then can I ascend into my own bell
to hear the sweetest frequency I’ve known
as I abandon ownership of my soul.
When me and mine are unbraided,
in that final hour,
let me be turned into a flower,
blossoming into my spirit,
petals and stem soaking wet.
A splendor at dawn, but closed
when noonday sun’s a threat.
True nature grasped,
I find myself an ocean
swallowing a stone,
and not a raindrop
falling all alone.
©2024 | K.F. Hartless
Artwork: A 7.2-hectare lotus field outside of Hanoi, Vietnam.
Weyes Blood “God Turn Me Into a Flower”
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
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