The wise heart

We let a cup fall out of our hands
And say that we are clumsy
We make a mistake
And say that we are a failure
We are criticized
And invent that the critic does not like us

None of this is reality

In reality a cup fell to the ground
And we made a mistake
And we were criticized

The other things are just stories we invent
Judgments that we make
Poetry of a spirit which wants to turn reality into a novel
In which itself is the main character

The wise heart
Is a heart that can rest in what is
Without having to write a story about it

It is the clear view
Which sees what is really happening
Which sees what really is
And which sees what we invent

I am far away from it
But I long for

My heart to be wise