Maybe it will go away,

My Desire.

I want so much, too much.

An amount so vast the desire disappears.

 

I want a love, a love, a love.

I want to love.

I want to lose.

I want to feel silk under my finger pads.

I want to ache so fiercely that I can no longer eat.

I want to die.

I want to die with you.

Please hold my hand.

You’re so beautiful.

When will our time come?

Do you want more time?

One thing more, my last.

Feel this…

 

Raga is Desire. We cannot un-want; unless we’ve already had. I was born with a need, a want, a desire. I imagine what my first was…was it for breath, warmth, milk, Mother? Or was it a desire to un- or not something?

Raga comes from the desire to change something. It could be as big as a divorce, to as small as quenching our thirst.  But, the basis is change.

I wanted to give change to the homeless man today, but it seemed so useless…even pitiful.

What I want to go away is my pity for humans. How can our excellent species be such a loss? Every day my heart breaks.

Maybe it will go away.

Tom lives in a Yurt in Switzerland.

I live in my own, imagining my mornings by the fire, gazing out onto the mountains.

Raga would travel with me there.

It will stay with me until my final breath.

Somehow, I find that re-assuring.

 

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Apprentice Editor: Emily Bartran / Editor: Catherine Monkman

Photo: Pixoto