I woke to the whispering rain
Shadows, moved the day’s darkness
Cold pain, stark continence
Moved forward the dreamscape

A thousand motions, responses few
A wonder, that knew many
Yet, few truly knew
Resembled the night, he was cold
Sometimes unforgiving

The dream was self evident
It’s theme, though familiar
Was a mystery to the day

Murmurs could be felt in
A rhythmic crescendo
It’s secret, never shared

When will it be time
Time to just walk toward
A dark sand beach
Or to be

Through all the shame
All the pain
Fear made a lessor
Man buckle, cringe in failure

While the mountains stood tall
To be a stone, or a tree standing
Is the model, be there, in the now
No ideas of what wasn’t
To be that moment
Free to act, to be silent

The wonder is to understand
Like the mountain..like the stone
And the tree
Manifest the moment
Yet, know that you
Are
More..and
Be ..
Free..

An Original Poem by H R Beebe