Prose Before Bedtime

I had to write this down before going to sleep last nite. I was actually thinking of Kurt Vonnegut and his upcoming birthday party here in Atlanta. I don't know if i'm bold enough to post the photo that goes with this. Go figure.

Happy Birthday, Mr. V

Be an empty vessel,
A Chalice, if you will.
Light passes through,
Darkness is but a shadow.

We have begged for entry at the threshold of the Beloved.
The arms of Delusion have comforted us all too willingly.

Truth is elusive,
But not the illusion that love can be.
Holding on to either won't bring peace.

Nurturing oneself with the sun,
And watching the breeze play with leaves at the tops of trees
Brings temporary detachment.

Become the undulating reflection of the moon upon the lake,
Or the whisper of air under the dragonfly's wings.