30 May 2014

One Hundred and Forty-Three


History is replete with the ideals of truth, justice, and equity for all
Being blown asunder by the mortal tempest of me, myself and I,
From every crook and cranny of this swirling play of stardust.

* * * *
Even other dimensions viewed through different eyes
Will not change the essential nature of all creation.
There is only one source, no matter the mooring.
It may have faces and places beyond counting,
But the underlying nature is ever the same.

* * * *
Of truth, much is said, nothing known.

* * * *
The great serenity has no bounds.

* * * *
More irony, more paradox.
Yawn, ho-hum.

* * * *
About nothing, I Am.

* * * *
You never were.
You are not.
You need not care.

 * * * *
Truth is not partial to any notion.

* * * *
Ponder the eternal enigma you ever are.

* * * *
Everything is food to one set of fangs or another.

* * * *
In just one ephemeral moment, death rubs out an entire existence,
All its imaginary perceptions completely undone for all eternity.
And all your power, all your fame, all your fortune, all your belief,
Cannot even one moment more command, influence, acquire, or hope.