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#18: The Stuffed-Up Hole

Just minutes from heading into my driveway.

It struck as distinctly as my favorite fragrance.

The pattern that keeps following like a crazy fan.

Revealed its identity, and I began to understand.


"I have to stop filling the hole" I gasped

As I gazed into the infinite space beyond.

Giving the "That's bizarre, but not my first time" look.

My husband waited patiently for clarity.


My fear creates a deep illusionary hole

Which always feels real to the mind.

And in an attempt to feel whole in every moment,

I keep filling it incessantly, it's now a daily grind.


The hole is a figment of my mind.

Just like my fear and insecurity.

The experience is no less imaginary.

And so does the observer, me, too.


I realize that a moment later,

Everything will change again.

The only permanence is my discernment

Of the truth from everything vain!

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