Hold them all

I just want to hold them all, the old, the young, the ones in the middle. And hold them. Sit still with them, or hold them down until they sit still with me. Because the rat race is not real. Because there is nowhere to go, nothing to achieve, nothing to prove. Because the comforts are nothing more than comforts. And thoughts... well, that is left to a personal experience. To find true comfort. That is the trick. The trick no magician ever showed me. Not the one on TV. And who is eating this burger anyway?

I just want to sit with you and be with you in perfect comfort and ease, knowing there is nowhere to go and nothing to prove. The balancing act is not an act, if balance is alive and well. Just as the breath is. Just as they all are. You are.