Most of the world 
lives in chaos but 
me I live on
an island in an
oasis of bliss rooted
not but rather free
to bob about like 
a cork in this 
sea of humanity tethered 
to but tied not 
to the order of 
the Universe partial to 
but not part of 
a buoy or float 
just me quietly free

If life were 
an urn then
peace is the 
emptiness things fill
the void and 
I scoop and 
pour and scrape 
and scrub and 
repeat removing any 
chaos and distractions 
causing me discomfort 

It’s a poor
man who holds
the keys to 
Heaven for they
are forged from 
humility and a
rich man who 
holds the keys 
to Hell for 
they are wrung 
from the blood 
of the poor 

I have learned 
have evidence that 
things happen in
a precise order 
never too early 
or too late 
just when they 
are supposed to 
and this acceptance 
while it can
be trying is 
tried and true 
just let go 
and give in
to your timeline 

Lone er
never ly
I go
love er
seldom ly
I am 
happy er
best est
I be