As I wrote the truth of the moment, it allowed me to let go.
To leave the writing space where it is and go with the flow.
In the moments where you may feel pressure, giving into the others control.
Get up, walk around and go ahead take a stroll.
Notice and observe the space, in another moment it will all go.

Responding to the other cannot be faulted, if it is true to your heart. 
If there is doubt in your mind, you have not listened. 
So start.
What is it that pulls us apart?
In the end there is nothing,
share a piece of your heart. 

In this moment I am in my senses. 
Again it comes down to this moment, no need for defences. 
Breathing and consciously creating, 
a welcoming presence for others to feel.
To me I know this is real,
feel comfortable and not afraid to be.
That place starts from I not judging me. 
The least I can do, 
for you.


© Krishdga    29.4.17

A genius I felt. I embraced it.
I was mad but clever.
What was it worth,
to feel different from the rest?
Why me?
It was all in my head.
A role I created.
How quickly my world turned,
with a single thought.
Playing the victim, felt powerful.
I spoke of Him as if I was on His level.
I was portrayed as mad. Insane.
It was insanity.
Truth. Oh I am nothing without your love.
I continue playing a role in your plan to teach us all. 
With the clarity that it is just a role.

© Krishdga    23.1.17

I repeat to myself.
This body is a pile of food. 
This body is just a composition of food.

This body is what I consumed today and yesterday.
This body will be tomorrow, the consumption of the past.
I have had this body for so long, perhaps I am wrong.
Still it feels so strange to feel weak or strong.

So to think we are just walking consumptions of food.
Some make us laugh. 
Some make us love. 
Some make us wonder and ponder life.

A pile of food made me feel?
What will you eat now? 
Would you give a pile of food control?
Control over your perception of what is real? 
What you feel?

We are just piles of food.
Can you digest that? 

© Krishdga    20.4.17

Simple as a request it may seem, 
a request was made, now to please the dream.
Mystery and honesty tangled together.
The other, who we do not know,
or think as separate from us, or we, 
is me.
In this knowingness the space between what is and was,
is all here in this moment in myself.
As I met myself deeply, in the presence of all that is, 
and ever will be greater than me.
All that there was,
only love.
Not that which has attachment or resentment,
that which is pure in its knowingness, of all eternal beings.
One space where acceptance is not passive,
but conscious.
The more I opened myself to not needing to understand the other,
allowing them to just be,
it set my ego free.
Why not? 

© Krishdga    16.4.17

A creator whether an artist or a dancer,
 breaths one space.
They are so aware-
 of the magic in the space.
They are connected with that which fills and flows,
 from the mind body and soul.
They share in this space-
 all that they have learnt and interpreted,
 up until this point.
They forget about being understood or recognised, 
 only choosing to inspire and comprise art.
Where and when they could share. 



© Krishdga    16.4.17

Let go. Why?
A question.
Do you need an answer?
A question.
Do you really need to be somewhere?
A question.
They followed every teacher.
They learnt every method.
They practice, 
in the practicing the cycle arose again.
I kept working on myself. 
I was in tune with the outside world,
not the detail but the suffering.
I choose in each moment to be kind, 
not to repeat what I had done before.
I came out of the cycle.
I am now.

© Krishdga    10.4.17

They shouted your name, screamed and raved.
No one listened, took notice, yet they wanted to be saved.
Until the suffering caused too much pain.
Before joy was once felt again.
The whisper of your name was heard.
Peace was found for a moment - no one spoke a word.
Seeking euphoria, an attachment forming leaving a stain. 
Here again arises the pain it remains.
The cycle continued in vain.
The human race. They left undisturbed.
No one spoke of them again. 



© Krishdga    7.4.17

As it came to me, raw unedited,
I wrote it down. 
It helped to keep it written in a form,
not condensed or complicated.
Work that would reach others, 
work that not necessarily is to everyone's taste,
but one that was true to myself.
I kept reflecting on why I was doing it.
I was grateful for the times I could share an insight into life.
One that I have not lived so long, 
but felt like I'd done many times before.
This may not be the truth.
It does not matter now.

© Krishdga    9.4.17

So many of you filled my mind with hope. 
Hopelessly I let my heart skip and wonder.
Fantasise, to my surprise, a game I play with my mind.
to entertain, 
to be inspired, 
to create.
Each of you gave me a space to create.
An inspiring mystery. 
The mystery I gave you. I gave myself.
I danced and danced. I will stop dancing soon.
So I will dance until I am no longer. 
Thank you for all the dances.

© Krishdga    8.4.17

This is about the self.
I am given the chance,
to act, to create space.
Creating space like a dog.
Dog is mans best friend.
he is walked on, he does not absorb
he is highly intelligent
Walked on. 
Walk on me.
I am creating space.
The more space I created, 
t h e l a r g e r, 
I became.
Abundant and amble. 
Enormously engulfed in space.
Attracting only attracting. 
It became harder to repel.
No longer a part of duality.  



© Krishdga     8.4.17

It is not I that deserves to be,
 a w a k e n e d  

But we. 
The more conscious,
 we become as individuals, 
the separateness becomes inseparable.

Joined, conjoined in joy, 
 of the life of others and ourselves.
When I realised what it was, 
 that it is not about me.
I emptied.
Empty now and full,
 there was nothing.
The suchness became.

And my actions,
 were not mine.
But that of ours,
 all of ours. 
We divine. 


© Krishdga    7.4.17

The isness of moments of contemplation, 
 where your mind may wonder.
When there is harm to your balance.
One becomes more appreciative,
 of the isness.

That which is dealt within the now,
 will not build resistance to the future.
When a memory is triggered,
 whether it be 'good' or 'bad'.
Triggers of emotion,
 monitored changed into motion.
Monitoring now, the stillness, 
 is the isness. 



© Krishdga    7.4.17

Stuck in suction, spiralling.
Up down, in out, through, within, outwardly. 
Continuously reflecting on events that cause reaction. 
Unresolved resentment. 
Comparisons float in and out.
Unconventional. What should be? And what is? 

The line is fine.

With this duality of life comes an expectation.
Assessing events and outcomes, 
 positive or negative.
Driven by constant contemplation of death.
When this body disappears.
What is left behind?
A collection of memories kept alive by,
 thought. 


© Krishdga    6.4.17

A cog weaving designing awaiting an answer.
Suddenly questions that want to be answered.
A step away from the 'true' self.
A step close to a dream.
The air is thicker. More effort to breath.
To consciously breath it seems,
harder, more effort.
Noticing the attachment.
The time for when one is awake to asleep,
conditioned by society.
As I rested a few hours at a time,
whether this be morning or night.
I started to catch my thoughts in the process of creating,
Sometimes hot and colder at other times,
starting to interpret reacting to space and time.
Going against all that I had learnt till now,
when it came to sharing the work. 
The ego, I, the self, that needs more work would appear again.
In a moment where I know I should lead by example.
What does it mean to not care?
Ultimately to be oneself is to share.
Being and becoming better,
through a creative space that has no rules.
In this space be who you are, start to practice the essence of you.
Eventually it will be that which always shines through. 

© Krishdga   5.4.17