Jasmine blooms, bar be ques, ocean breezes, that tingly sensation in the warmer air. Summertime bike rides and hot nights and long days and cool cocktails in the late afternoon with sunglasses on, sunny faces warm. The shala hot early, hot late, easy warmness to get into. Travel plans, work plans, play plans, mad hands. Music around, everywhere sound, following the beat down. Lab humming in the new heat, a bee hive. Busy busy, making honey, tripping around into new views of Truth.
Sleep comes, sleep goes, but the night always shows the slipping sand through my toes. I hide in my little ways, trying to figure out how to avoid laying down. The darkness envelops and surrounds, muffling sounds, nothing quite lost, but nothing found. Will dawn be soon? Ah no. More time to stare up at the white, more time to face the black, chest feeling tight. I wake to stifled breath, with no answers. Restriction pulling me fully, raggedly, awake. My practice the only way back to sleep. My devotion the only way to keep my head, my shaggy mental heap.
Summer slows, summer glows. Two years now gone by from the down. Two years of poorly practiced patience, gone round. And so many more years to go, so many more days to show the lost as found. Smells of summer abound. The heaving luscious welcome ocean ground, watery homeward bound. Breath rise and fall, listening to the summer sound.
I love you.