Easing into Discomfort

Ages will pass and no one will know

The slavery of the soul, by the skillful mind

The dying embers of the hearth are there to remind, of a time

Of roaring fire, of warmth, of light and of hope

Boundless, constant

The warm soup, down the throat, warming the hungry winter belly

Feeding the body as the soul starves

“Appreciate what you have lad, do not ask for more!

The food of our table is already compromised, what need do I have of your gluttony?”

Acceptance, the cold stone floor, the bed

No story for peace, a kick is all that you need

The stone as pillow

To find a comforting world of one’s own

With warm soup to satiate, with warm quilt to comfort the soul

Uneasy sleep by the dying embers of the hearth

Slipping into the endless night, with no hunger and no plight.




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