30 May 2014

One Hundred and Sixty-Two


How can awareness be thought to have either beginning or end
When its momentary nature is so ever-present as to be absolutely eternal.
Consciousness, however, is an entirely different bag of worms.
For all practical purposes, it is unable to hold still,
And is insatiably able and willing
To distract itself and over and over,
With every antic it can possibly conceive.

* * * *
The activist sees the mystic and calls his way pointless.
The mystic sees the activist and calls his way pointless, as well.
So many ways to point out the pointlessness
Of the same and only mystery.

* * * *
Truth is the ever-present, timelessly unfolding now.
It is what is, and can never be understood
By the mind interrupted by time.

* * * *
Every restless seeker wanders until they realize
It was within they were searching all the while.

* * * *
What a curious thing that anyone believes
They have the right, even duty, to dictate to others
What to do, or not do, with their existence.

* * * *
What if you suddenly realized
All your assumptions were entirely wrong,
Would you, could you, totally recalibrate, and start anew?

* * * *
The world is but a tiny particle in the infinity of your true beingness.
Discern that what you truly are, and are not, is prior to and well beyond
The farthest reaches up into which your temporal eyes every evening gaze.

* * * *
Consciousness will never do more than speculate on how this mystery came to be.
All anyone can ever do is be in the moment, however it is playing out.
Time is born of mind, it is nothing more than imagination.
You were not, you are not, you need not care.