John Knows His Earthly ID
Posts
Se agull, Have We Met Before? By Tt 5/24/26 at Buckroe Beach, VA (1) I come alone with a missing heart My lonesome present made the sea vaster and waves more harshly A sensitive seagull landed in front of me softly She looked at me with quiet empathy I closed my eyes, thanked the seagull fully When I reopened my eyes and looked at the ocean, The sea rolled like a vast blue blanket As if trying to enfold my somewhat cold and lost earthly being. (2) It is awful to be alone when things are not in one’s favor Yet it is no easier When beauty arrives And there is no beloved soul beside you to share it. (3) Alas! My dear Seagull, Tell me why I can’t share good fortune with someone I love? Why is a good heart often trashed like garbage? And kind intentions get less attention than the mean thought? (4) “Yip! Yip! What you receive is what you have created.” “Yip! Yip! No matter what has happened to you You are always at the beach And the ocean and I are ...
Does Existence Exist?
Does Existence Exist? By T.T. Virginia's Humble Home June 19, 2026 (1) Does Existence Exist? The world is too vast to measure, Things too diverse to classify, The mind too contingent to define, Reality too conditional to master. Oh, my dear friend, If you cannot verify, Control, or know a thing in its own essence, Can you honestly say, "I know"— Or declare, "That is why it is"? (2) I glimpse the hidden architecture of my inner cosmos. I sense the fragility of my outer world. I witness the drifting of all that ages. Nothing remains the same. And before this endless transformation, I stand astonished, Speechless. (3) Does existence exist? If you insist, it does, Tell me, my dear friend— What is it? (4) The world in which I live cannot be exhausted. The things that wander through deep space remain subjects of speculation. The mind possesses no inherent self. Reality owns nothing but change. If you cannot verify, Control, or know a thing in its own essence, Can yo...
A Foggy Morning in America
A Foggy Morning in America By Tt Greenwood, Virginia June 28, 2026 (1) I begin my day on a foggy morning in America. My heart is heavy and aching. A headline tells me: "China Is Quietly, Permanently Trying to Erase Tibet." My old, broken heart wanders deeper into the foggy woods before me. (2) I search for something— something that can part the fog before my eyes. Life in America has opened the world to me, yet something is still missing, something whose name only my soul remembers. (3) Who am I? As a human being, must I belong to an identity that others insist on defining? Why can't I live like the trees before me, standing quietly within the morning fog? I asked aloud. (4) Then, from somewhere beyond the fog, a voice arose— clear as crystal, steady as a mountain. "Your burden is nothing more than your devotion to justice and truth." "Yes," I answered. "I cannot dishonor justice or turn my back on the truth. I cannot find any reason to let Tibe...