14 July 2012



To be solely the awareness, completely alone, effortless,
Is a suspension of thought, a disinterest in the ever-churning world.
A state of quietude, stillness, serenity, grace; interesting only if you are truly content
To be done with all the many things your version of the universe offers.
No, it is not easy to let go, to be in the world but not of it,
Even for the briefest of these mortal times.

* * * *
Ultimately, all sense of identity is absolutely meaningless.
Endure in the world of mind for as long as you will,
And then cast your Self free of all constraints.

* * * *
As fresh as the eternal moment forever is,
The memories which filter through it are ever old.
The more we know, the less we see.

* * * *
You are the source of hell.
You are the source of heaven.
Poison or elixir, the choice for all.

* * * *
And does it matter to anyone but you?
This so-called spiritual quest
Is in many ways
More than a little silly.
Vanity, vanity, all is vanity,
The vapor of imagination’s rainbow.
And awakening is, so to speak, the last vanity.

* * * *
We are all limited in one way or another.
It is the unwitting nature of the manifest dream.
The uncarved block inevitably becomes a rutted road.

* * * *
All stories have their figurative moral
-- Metaphorical, symbolic, metaphoric, allegorical,
Representative, not literal, emblematic, abstract, rhetorical --
Do you really need another tale, another fable, another yarn, another saga,
Another anecdote, another narrative, another account,
Another parable, to catch the gist?