Past the Physical Reflection of Emptied Wisdom


Past the Physical Reflection of Emptied Wisdom

Upright and boldly going where others fear

Photo by Shlag on Unsplash

Like Gypsies in the night — not of tribal sense, small and tight-knit — but grandiose, traveling with the masses, waiting for the shepherd to tell us where to go. Carrying everything in our knapsack — ruling out all possibilities of the day may bring, be prepared was the motto of the larger tribe told where they should lay their heads.

Striking campfires with bug juice — creating treacherous flames — empty space merely filling black smoked clouds and warmth’s falsities of identifying joyous returns. Wildfires ablaze — lost in trances egoistic pounding of one’s chest with authoritarian demise.

Kicked out of social functions — unorthodox approach to breaking from the herded sheep with fox-like mystery — instinctual approach to what comes next. Disbanded tribe — building community afar — calling to seekers of joining hands with Great Mother and Mystery of it all.

Hiding in plain sight — the wisdom of another tribal force said to have taken over the world — secret societal fraternities and communities bidding of light. Broken are they — if not careful of insidious tormented entrapment binding the soul.

Physical mirror’s gaze — going back to the beginning — misled by Cardinals and bishops playing a dirty chess game — letting the pawns out with no endgame in sight. Shattered dreams — thousand-piece broken glass — waiting for puzzles assembling to a sacred tune disregarded once before.

Broken are we — reflecting all misguided understanding of what holds true — down to the bones, rewriting the pages upon our hearts, painted pictures coming into our minds’ eye — manifesting into the reality of our own. Perfectly imperfect — songs of the ancients carrying vibratory truths — lifting our soul, inner developing outwardly projecting a new village we call home.

The baggage we carry — suitcases filled chock-full with useless remnants of century’s belief of holding onto all we can, burden too great and weight of equal value — burying us in the seas of misery alive. At bottoms upward glare — wishing upon starry skies blanketing stories — lifting us to a higher plain, caught in hindsight twenty-twenty finite belief — moving beyond the bedtime stories whispering soothing chapters of fairy-tales and mystery.

Awaken thy spirit beyond flesh meat devouring — consuming behavioral pages from epic battles greater than war and peace. Singular turmoil — on homelands mind-altering, earth-shattering, breathtaking view of canyons — great pyramids inner sanctuary for those pursuing asylum from outer worlds bell-curve nature.

Past the physical — inner mirrored reflecting wisdom — baggage once carried, building us strong, upright and boldly going where others fear its path leading to nowhere but home. Arrivals totality of it All — dragon’s heartbroken faltering, fleeting song — new script, new compositional tune — creation speaks with authority over all authority — we sing a new ballad with emptied hands, filled with All There Is.

~Ani Po


Sitting in sacred space, with no script in hand — only prompted ideas provided and timely snap of, for anonymity sake, Banni Tim as his name. Twelve year old chiming in on what letting go might look like.

To me it means letting go of the baggage slowing us down. How can we play with all that stuff weighting us down?

Thank Banni Timm for your timely response. Much Gratitude to the whole KTHT family for sharing in sacred dance. Thank you Ravyne Hawke for this weeks offering.

Keeping to the rules of this prompt:

The Rules

  1. Use the prompt to write a poem or personal essay.
  2. *(Tag) Mention at least (3) three of your favorite writers (here at KTHT or elsewhere on Medium) and ask them to participate. Each of those writers will then mention at least (3) three more, and so on.
  3. You may submit your story to KTHT or to any publication that allows prompts from other publications.
  4. Regardless of where you submit your piece, You MUST include a link back to this page and (Tag) mention one or all of the KTHT editors — Diana C., Spyder, jules, Ravyne Hawke.
  5. List the prompt and these rules at the end of your poem or essay so that those you’ve (tagged) mentioned will know the rules.

Tagging a few favorite writers, who may or may not join in the dance: Upasana Sharma, Brooke Kochel RN, Ulf Wolf, Keri Mangis, Anna Woods, and Somsubhra Banerjee


If you are interested to where my mind went, during this prompt, here is a song from my playlist.


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

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash

When my Spirit is Free


Poetic response to thrice prompted

When my Spirit is Free

Receiving tools and resources already there

Painting by Author

Returning to the center of it all, reflecting on the horses bucking thematic cries — ancient times before this period of collected tools already given by creatives kiss. Wishing upon a star — hoping for that great leap forward, we arrive on sturdy ground.

From the four winds greeted mind, body and spirit breathing dragon-like fire clearing forests of past undoubtedly — lost ways and tranquil moments of yesteryear. Ancestors and guides are awaiting timely steps — leading nowhere in particular — arriving punctually at heart’s centered chorus singing melodies of all creation.

Life’s journey — medicine wheels of time — spoken by the prophets and elders before — gathering more wisdom, tools creating a brighter day — forward-moving, ever-shifting, no longer looking back — barring pilgrims calling upon the antediluvian winds. Extending hands of knowing — those barricaded in their minds of fate-inflicted truths — snakeskin molting with deeper calling of a personal relationship with Great Mystery.

If I believed, therefore I Am — already present — not yet understood — travelers resting place, final chapter turning epic pages of lives untold abstruse. At the eye of the storm — peaceful, compassionate kiss — reflective images carried out into the modern-day.

Homecoming felicitations — weaving story-lines and songs of generations before, to come and forevermore — zero-point transmutation are we. Smiling outwardly, inwardly reflecting as far as the eyes can see — when my spirit is free.

Waterfalls and baron deserts
green pastures calling
angelic beings aiding and abetting
the interconnection of weaver’s omnipresence.

Drowning in misery
lifting to the great unknown
opening vast visionary pull
receiving tools and resources already there.

~ Ani Po


Pulling thoughts together from three different prompts, giving thanks to the creators of creative flow. Ravyne Hawke and jules for their contribution to KTHT February fun.

The Rules

  1. Use the prompt to write a poem or personal essay.
  2. *(Tag) Mention at least (3) three of your favorite writers (here at KTHT or elsewhere on Medium) and ask them to participate. Each of those writers will then mention at least (3) three more, and so on.
  3. You may submit your story to KTHT or to any publication that allows prompts from other publications.
  4. Regardless of where you submit your piece, You MUST include a link back to this page and (Tag) mention one or all of the KTHT editors — Diana C., Spyder, jules, or me, Ravyne Hawke.
  5. List the prompt and these rules at the end of your poem or essay so that those you’ve (tagged) mentioned will know the rules.

Third prompt comes from Era Garg, when painting and words combine. I chose a painting when spirit and I danced with inspiration.


During this piece, Into the Mist playing on repeat. Please give it a listen, if you so choose.

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

Photo by Javardh on Unsplash