to be the God of storm

when it won’t last.

it rises up, like a thunder clap

demanding

that all things pass.

If you think about one thing

long enough

you will become that.

It’s a comfort to know

that bad things don’t stick around—

even when I search them out.

the body wants pleasure, but it has no meaning

and for that reason,

the soul triumphs.

to embody what we want—

a garden full of good,

growing love.

there are no weeds

no bad men

only flowers

in my Garden of Eden.