done

It is the belief that I am done

that brings me to a halt.

It is the thought that I am finished

that brings about the standstill,

the feeling of complete, that my task is over

that I need no longer care

that I have all I need or matters

that I, or any part of me,

no longer requires growth.

It is the belief I have the answers

that brings me to stop asking.

That the fireflies I've captured

are all the magic I need.

That the wind has told me all its secrets,

that nature is my tool, and no longer my friend.

The magic of the moment stops flowing

when I believe that it has stopped.

A settled job that takes care of the financials

can bring my desire for learning to a halt.

A steady lovership may make me feel

I no longer need to strive to be of worth.

A comfy social cushion may numb my empathy.

Belief of doneness induces carelessness

detaches that part from living flow,

makes the stream a stagnant puddle,

leaves the pirate ship floating adrift.

Hubris of a healthy body

has me stop heeding its signals.

The arrogance of an agile mind

brings it to sleep upon the racetrack.

Yes, what I have has been granted,

yet it can always be ungranted back.

This is the state of flow this moment

and at any other moment, never the same.

believing that book has the answers

believing I've cornered truth or beauty

believing this practice is enough

believing this thought is the one key

believing this poem is the crux, the missing piece

believing the subset can detach from the whole and be complete

believing it is done

believing I am done

brings striving to a halt

brings thinking to a halt

stagnates the curious flow of Life

inseparable from growth.