18 September 2012

Forty


40


How long are we going to quarrel
Over which dogma is true,
Which version of the mystery is real,
When the only thing that has ever really been argued
Are the imaginings born of one geographical assumption or another.

* * * *
The awareness at the source of all manifestation will ever wander along
With whatever dream consciousness wishes to play out.
Creation, preservation, destruction,
You choose.

* * * *
History is a capricious thing.
It generally only reminisces the survivors,
And in the rise and fall of all things, everyone eventually loses.
So what does that say about the whirl
And all its ado?

* * * *
But what can you really want, expect, or hope from those
Who do not comprehend the relativity of all differences?

* * * *
Any given religion was once a cult.
And every cult was a fabrication
Founded on a pack of assumptions
Likely concocted by a charismatic persona,
Willingly accepted by a small group prone to following,
Who conditioned their progeny to believe with little or no question,
And voilà, yet another organized religion is born
To brew what havoc it surely will.
All too predictable.

* * * *
The ultimate reality is that each and every one of us
Has the opportunity to discern the mystery we all equally are.
But the conditioning, the mindsets, the traditions, the dogmas, the memes,
The identification of consciousness with the mind, the heart, the body, the world, the universe,
Have humankind locked in a stranglehold entirely of its own imaginary creation.
We are on a sure an unwavering course toward self-destruction,
A unfolding well beyond the point of no return.
What will come of it is the pulp of dystopian fiction.