2009 06 07

Awoke one morning to the sound of my own snoring.

Awed & at Odds with myself for if I am awake,

Who is it that sleeps?

A feather floated toward the sleeper’s nose

drifting Disney-like to & fro landing on target.

Imagining flocks of fallen feathers forming wings

For further flights of fancy I flew

as the sleeper snored.

All the feathers tickled a sensation of joy

at the freedom  found.

But there was no I, no me, no us,

only the floating freedom that when grasped fell.

Only the joy of floating. 

This morning when the sleeper awoke,

with a grin greater than the goatee on his chin, 

everywhere he heard a Beatles tune.

All you need is Love.

Free floating attention our gift today.