12Apr 2018 by aryask@gmail.com

when the snowflake melts

poetry
They say it’s how we play the cards that we’re dealt, People search for answers when a snowflake melts, What was once a source of glory may later feel stuck, ‘til the sun swallows the old story and you stop giving a fuck, The fire burns in the belly and there is no cure, A great glory comes When you’re perfectly insecure.
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12Apr 2018 by aryask@gmail.com

Blue shine

poetry
He walks miles, Many many miles, He smiles, For no reason, He dreams Many dreams, For a while til he stops breathing He aches and crawls At the edge of this flesh Etched on a blue shine The wilderness outstretched He falls in a hole Digs himself through Then hits water And finds himself with you He flies high Cuz the sky is safe Blinded by sunshine With a burning faith
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10Apr 2018 by aryask@gmail.com

A peaceful sail

poetry, prose, storytelling
Winds were heavy, and the boat was rocking back and forth, there alone in the middle of the sea. The ocean had swallowed all his clothes the night before. Sea monsters came and went and there he remained naked and amused, the boat was all he owned, and the sail was all he knew. Though aimless at times, from a bird’s eye view he was just another traveler. He relished in the depth of things and that’s all that mattered to him. In a world where nothing is permanent, he cherishes the moment with a savory detachment.
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29Mar 2018 by aryask@gmail.com

this moment is sufficient

Uncategorized
getting baack into a morning meditation routine brings me ever so present, yielding to this very moment, a flow of stillness, non-motive, because the present moment is sufficient. then something takes over the day with powers beyond my grasp. i stand at the edge of emptiness and quietly fall in, at last.
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27Mar 2018 by aryask@gmail.com

Letting go from the mountain top

purpose, self-awareness, storytelling, uncertainty
He was hanging on the edge of the mountain peak. An eagle with flappy ears was standing at the very tip. It leaped around and perched on a stone just above him. It was leaping and perching, leaping and perching. Finally, it perched just over his head and its butthole was hanging just over him. He was terrified this bird would soon shit on him. He zoomed into its butthole which had feathers around it. He feared for his life and had to make a choice: either get shit on by this inappropriate bird or let go and die off the mountain. He looked down and there was a sea of clouds. He rapidly looked back up at the eagle, down, up again.  Somehow he decided it’s better to just…
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