Here

Here, sitting in my cube
trying to be, still here,
just here, still and quiet
with the Grateful Dead

“Don’t murder me, I beg
of you don’t murder me,
please don’t murder me”

Trying to do, here, nothing
here, but listen, shut out
inside  voice, emails there
and their instant messages.

“I was born in the desert
raised in a lion’s den”

How can I really be? Here?
With them there, breaking
into my being -into my quiet.
Crashing my passing into here.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s