01 October 2012

Forty-Four


44


How much attention can be focused on any given dream?
The senses furnish an all-but-infinite, ever-streaming, lightshow of a universe,
And from that, even the sharpest of minds can only briefly harbor
The vaguest perception of a very finite existence.

* * * *
Most partake fully the agonies and ecstasies of consciousness,
But only the rare scrutinize its nature closely enough
To discern its source far more interesting.

* * * *
The perceptions of any given moment
Are quickly recorded into subjective memories,
Wherein time is contrived and projected
Into what dreams may come.
This we call living.

* * * *
Existence is a smoky reverie,
Really nothing more than consciousness
And the ever-churning elements
Colluding themselves real.

* * * *
What moment is not creation?
What moment, not preservation?
What moment, not destruction?

* * * *
History, a bottomless grab bag
In the vast immensity of imagination.
Nothing more than whatever comes to mind.

* * * *
It takes a great deal of mettle
To doubt to the essential core of awareness.
Immortal fare is not for the meek who will inherit the earth,
And the dreaming it every moment inspires.

* * * *
Existence as it is known is nothing more than a foggy swirl of perceptions.
Eternal life is timeless awareness, free of memory, free of known.
It is the end of passion’s craving for any form or concept.