When entering the Gorge, leave behind all preconceptions. Let yourself be carried off on a stream of consciousness that tickles the heavens as readily as it grinds down stone.

Hesitant Onlooker, Lost Traveller

When you hesitate

the mind wanders;

it fails and falls and revolves

around pointless thought,

and you wonder why you feel

empty and desperate.

The mind abdicates.

The moment passes

and you’re left pondering

where it all went, how you

tripped and fell and lost

consciousness, how time slipped away like

romance in the bright light of day,

like a thief in the dead of night,

a day and night you took for granted,

going about your business

in the grip of conceit,

in the shadow of deceit,

wrapped up in the decay of a

life well and properly lived out, you poor,

wretched, self-deluded beast.

The mind fails when you

seize up and hesitate, roaring for show,

all delicate inside, desiccated, worn out,

foregoing tomorrow’s sunrise

for the roaming sirens of today.

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