No moon

I once set out to breathe
In deep search of the why
But what I found, in silence abound
There is no moon or ground or sky

For all our words and stories
Our trials and our glories
The concepts hard and kind
Are productions of the mind

And although we do need them
It is nice to remember
Within the freedom of breathing
There is no such thing as December

Or autumn, summer, winter or spring
They are just concepts, we have made them
The world does not grow old
Those are just stories told

But there is a resting place
Beyond concepts, beyond the why
In focusing on breath alone I rest knowing

There is no moon or ground or sky