Falling ...

I think, i'm falling for her,

i think, she might be the one.

I'm not perfect .. I don't quite no what to say or do,

sometimes; when i'm with her .. I stammer,

Like a blubbering idiot .. or babble on uncontrollably

I'm not quite sure what it is,

She's pretty - but not the prettiest

She's smart - but not the smartest

She's bubbly - but not frivolous

She's caring - but not the softest

She's stubborn - but not the worst

I'm still not quite sure what it is ..

But, I think she might be the one

Zen

My friend, the zen master of them all the inimitable Zubair Habib inspired me;

A child of the soil,

living, eating and breathing

the air, the minerals and the soil

Living in Jozi, the city of gold;

maybe that's why it's still Egoli,

Maybe that's why it's the city of dreams

the city that drives it's people

leaves the rest of the country wondering what's wrong with us.

We've got the goldbug,

specks of gold; tinged with cyanide coursing through our waterways

entering our bloodstreams, infecting our brains

I wonder what it would take to break free,

to be at ease; to be comfortable with "nothingness"

The concept is so strange, not doing anything

not being, not doing, not searching, not seeking,

Just being .. just sitting still and absorbing ..

One day,

I too would like to be Zen!