20 September 2013

Eighty-Five


85


Discerning the indivisible, you realize
That all manifest forms are of the same reckoning,
Founded upon all the knowledge, shaped by all the concepts,
The countless absurdities fashioned by the kaleidoscoping sensory theater.
That you your Self, in each and every passing moment, imagine it all
In the temporal dreamy window of eternity set before you.

* * * *
If you are seriously earnest in your inquiry into Self,
The unadorned fact that you have never seen,
Nor will you ever see, your own face,
Is really proof enough.

* * * *
You may as well judge the wind
As believe what you think of anything
Really matters even one tiny slice of an iota.

* * * *
Babble, it’s all just a tower of babble,
Just a temporal manifestation of consciousness
Playing out in a teeny-weeny little dust storm of eternity.

* * * *
When did anything happen, really?
You were not, you are not, you need not care.

* * * *
So what if it is all one? is a valid argument
For avaricious, hedonistic, sociopathic, psychotic narcissists,
And mothers weary of laundry, dishes, screaming children, and deadbeat dads.

* * * *
When you were young and innocent, the movement of consciousness
Was like fresh sap flowing mightily through a spring tree.
As existence passed by with its many seasons
There arose a vague awareness
Of the vast, yawning expanse within.
Of the quietude that had always been present
Since the passionate journey in time and space began.
The indelible stillness that few are discerning enough to perceive.
Now you are in that portion of life when you make peace with the passions,
And quietly prepare for the end of time, and complete surrender to the eternal origin.