Tash Shadman
228 words, 7K views, 24 comments

And as I want for
Words to come,
Ideas to flow,
Pain to go,
I suffer my judgment of what is so.

And as I will for
Me to mend,
Feeling to flee,
Them to see,
I suffer my judgment of what be.

And as I worry
I might lose,
They might leave,
Things might rot,
I suffer my judgment of what is not.

And as I wish I
Didn’t want,
Didn’t will,
Didn’t worry,
Didn’t wish,
I suffer my judgment of what is.

And then
An opening arises.

And as I witness
What I think,
What I dream up,
What I dread,
I suffer not, but smile instead.

For I can see,
That all these thoughts
Are not me,
Are not real;
They’re thoughts I learned,
Not a big deal.
And so I suffer not, but heal.

And as I return
To the now,
To the silence,
To the knowing that all experience
Can be amusing and adored,
I return to myself,
And I suffer no more.


This poem was originally posted on Tash Shadman's website.