poems

 

It is enough to sit still.
It is enough to enjoy the quiet.
It is enough to be,
And it is enough to not.

It’s enough to abide in the calm waters of surrender.
It’s enough to lounge in nowhere.
It is enough to do nothing. 

(One of the most productive things you can do
is be completely unproductive) 

It’s enough to dream and just putz around.
It’s enough to allow yourself to become so intimate
with this snapshot of eternity. 

I really think that’s enough. 

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