she said; "get back to the source, 
you aint so soft, you're hardcore 
but if you're gonna hold the light 
then that's what deep breathing's for." 
and then the river went calm 
and she extended her palm 
and I became the withered sentiment 
of the sediment's psalm. 

the diasporic embalming, 
this tour is always evolving 
and when it fails 
becomes the nail 
in the harmonic enlightening. 

I boiled lavender envy 
and sniffed it out of the neti 
and held the hand of my yeti 
until my psyche was ready 
to reconcile the pretending, 
this archetypical rendering 
is the result of defending 
all of this ego in frenzy, 
when it's more about 
the surrendering. 

heart broken, heart open 
is the same orphan unspoken 
and in the morning we morph 
into the glowing and groaning 
and all the growing and owning, 
floating, twisting, uproaring 
channeling in a greater devotion 
to a more meaningful moment.