30 May 2014

One Hundred and Fifty-Five


It is only in human consciousness
That the disharmony of dualistic notion takes place.
At whatever level you might examine this infinite, indivisible matrix of a dream
 – Physics, chemistry, biology – everything is connected
Without any distinction, whatsoever.

* * * *
Without the patterning, without the movement of imagination,
Without all the assumptions and assertions,
What are you, really?

* * * *
To be born is to stream a so-called life,
A so-called fate, a so-called death,
A dream, unborn all the while.

* * * *
Dear Diary, what a day it’s been …

* * * *
You were never really born,
You have never existed,
You have no future,
You have no past.
You are the I in I,
The Am in Am,
The That in That.
You are That I Am,
The Truth, the Life, the Way
Awareness, pure, simple, eternally free.

* * * *
What would it be like to have seen this world
Before the rise of humankind
With all its fences, roads, and tracks;
Its countless inventions of every size and type;
Its boxes of every shape and purpose strewn across the land.

* * * *
Your first lesson that life was going to be somewhat harsh
May have been the exit-from-the-womb whack that inspired your first breath,
A defining wake-up call into what all that obnoxious commotion
Outside your mummy’s tummy was all about.