The Ascetic

  Everyday I go upon the mountain
  climb to the top, but I don't know what for.
  It's quiet until I hear a voice from the mountain
  it say's "BEWARE OF WHAT YOU WANT...IT MIGHT WANT YOU MORE!

  Ashes...my burned hut...
  But beautiful like cherries blooming from the hill
  One of my patients...just before he died
  And just before I left the hospital and began to travel
  If HE could face death so calmly, how can I face life with
  so much doubt? Now...I sit on the side of a mountain,
  and watch the shadows slowly filling the valleys below.
  But not without the doubts that still linger,
  and constantly caress the edges of my shadowy interior...
  At least a cathater expels impurities,
  in a manner of model effeciencies. And my previous profession
  always at least offered that. Fully vasectomies in clean and
  well-lit places. A sterile feel, seals from infecti[B,
  but not from disease. I often wonder if I left anyone behind?
  But somehow, I just can't remember. Only an oddly-defined try
  to find a better way. But somehow...I don't believe THIS IS IT!
  I think about India, and the Hindu concept of life,
  to be SO loved...and understand the space between REALITY AND
  PERCEPTION. And now...it seems that I live there...