Who is this ...
that looks through my eyes?
that speaks through my voice?
that breathes through my nose?

Who is this ...
that touches with my hands?
that thinks through my mind?
that cares through my heart?

A faceless, formless spirit --
operating through this body.

What is its purpose?
What is its goal?
What is its reason?

Who is this that is questioning this?
Who is this that is typing this?

And on and on it goes...

What moves men?

God has no religion. - Gandhi

(brain cell)

How do cells know how to divide, replicate and specialize?
How do cells know which ones get to be the heart?
the pinky toe?
the brain?

Cells don't (seem to) think, they just do.

Why am I thinking about Cells?

What Cells make me think?

Why do I think?

Are Feelings Quantifiable?

what is the size of your mind?

is it as big as your brain?
your body?
the room that you're in?
the building?

the universe, perhaps?

where are it's limits? boundaries?
where does it begin? where does it end?

every day -- a lifetime.

morning comes and i wake -- rested flesh and bones; a rejuvenated soul.
i try to start each day with a simple meditation, a quiet moment --
a silent prayer of gratitude for another chance to make better, everything that is within my power to make better.

then, the demands of the day start knocking into my consciousness, not a second late.

out to the sea of life i set my self adrift.

then night comes -- exhausted flesh and bones; a weary soul retires.
but before that i end each day with a simple meditation, a quiet moment --
a silent prayer of gratitude for that other chance to make better everything that is within my power to make better.

every day -- a lifetime.

-Cristina