Somewhere Not Here

This morning, I sat on the chair by my desk to meditate.

But before I closed my eyes, I let the picture of the shore get into me, and inadvertently brought it with me in the darkness.

And it painted the darkness.

I want to go somewhere where nature is, some place where I could sit before the ocean and stare at the horizon. Or perhaps, somewhere with cool breeze and mountains reaching the velvety sky. 

Somewhere, somewhere away from this city.

There, I would sit by the shore and inhale the morning air. Then I would meditate and safely fall into nothingness.

There, I would find words, string them together, and write them.

There, I would be free. And be myself. Just myself. See who I am, see what I want, see my potential. There, I would see me in my raw form.

I do not know why I cannot get enough of silence when I have a room at home where I could be alone and quiet. But maybe I need a new environment, some new place, some fresh space.

I have to be somewhere I could think more then come out new, at peace, and strong.

Or just some place.

Some space where I could be in utter Vastness.

And find direction.

How Does the Place in Your Mind Look Like?

I imagine my mind as an old temple,

with a tall gate left ajar.

It was so 'cause it wants to preserve 

the stillness of the place, 

and to welcome visitors at the same time.

If you would pass through that gate,

you would discover that the temple

got no ceiling at all.

There are tall, cold,

and smooth stone pillars though,

which seem to be supporting something above,

but you would not bother to look up

to see what they are.

Looking at your feet,

you would notice rough cemented ground,

which ran vastly along the whole temple.

It wants soles, but not their smell.

It keeps them safe, but leaves them callused.

You wouldn't dare to look at your sides,

'cause you would know there are walls,

but won't actually see them.

Just the vague shadows from your periphery 

would suffice.

Beyond this, there is nothing more,

yet you wouldn't be led to think

that the temple is empty,

There is an air of fullness in it.

There is an air of desire for growth,

purity and beauty,

yet already blemished.

The farther you walk,

the deeper the air gets.

It could be stifling and suffocating,

and you might leave, running out the gate.

But if you'd sit in a while,

breathe a little and endure it,

it is likely that you would lock yourself in.