The Illusion of Self and the Call to Becoming

This is the Day

This is the day
your life will surely change.

The crossroads rise before you,
dust of the old road settling behind,
the new path shimmering ahead
like a promise whispered by the wind.

This is the day
you choose which voice to follow —
the one that pulls you back into the bucket of old fears,
or the one that dares to climb,
even when the other crabs tug at your ankles,
begging you to stay small,
stay quiet, stay the same.

This is the day
you loosen their grip
with a single breath of courage.
What you do with every breath,
every step,
will determine tomorrow.

It may not come,
but continue forward.

This is the day
your shell begins to crack —
not from breaking,
but from becoming.
The chrysalis trembles.
The old identity softens.
The new one stirs,
stretching wings you forgot you had.
Metamorphosis — never meant to be gentle.

It is holy.

Your hands are His.
Your feet walk as Hers.
Your mind thinks like His.
Your Heart beats with Hers.

This is the day
you become a living lantern —
not by shining at others,
but by shining from within.

Your gratitude becomes a flame — lighting the path for those still wandering
in the dim corridors of their own becoming. With eyes of Hope — thoughts mirrored faith — steps shall be with grace and actions that of peace.

This is the day
you enter the sacred exchange —
where giving becomes receiving,
and receiving becomes giving,
and every act of kindness
returns to you in ways unseen.

Yesterday has passed,
leading to today.
Give thanks for every moment before…
and every moment to come.

This is the day
your life will surely change.
For the wind calls your name.
The Canvas answers back.
And your soul —
finally —
remembers the way home.

~Ani Po

Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh

Embracing Presence

When the Canvas Breathes

There is a moment
when the world exhales
and you realize
it was waiting for you.

The trees have been practicing your name.
The wind rehearsing its welcome.
The sky saving a color
you have not seen since childhood.

You unplug the noise,
and the silence does not frighten you —
it frees you.

You step into the canvas,
and the canvas steps into you.

Every breath becomes a brushstroke.
Every heartbeat becomes a drum.
Every memory becomes a doorway
back to the place you never left.

Presence is not learned.
It is remembered.
And when it is remembered,
life becomes Syncrosensational.

~Ani Po

Much gratitude for those who take time to read, ponder, and allow the inner workings of self to come forward. Grateful for the feedback, love shared, and, more importantly, the Dance with Inspiration. Deep Peace.

Joseph Lieungh