30 May 2014

One Hundred and Sixty


All moments in this inexplicable theater are instantaneously come and gone.
Why waste the here and now pondering things already over and done,
All of them no more than the filament of imaginary perception.
Or feel unhinging trepidation, over unknowable futures
That must manifest before they can ever be faced?

* * * *
Jesus was not Jesus, Buddha was not Buddha,
Krishna was not Krishna, Lao Tzu was not Lao Tzu.
No one has ever been anyone other than the one and only you
That you are, have always been, will ever be.

* * * *
There are some experiences
You could repeat every day of your life,
And others for which even just once is more than enough.
We each alone together wander and ponder
In very different universes.

* * * *
What seems so extraordinary to many,
Is nothing to those who partake
Naught but divine grace.

* * * *
There is a world of difference
Between powerful and controlling,
Creation and manipulation,
Within and without.
Intent is all.

* * * *
You must alone free your Self.
No one can do it for you.
It is ultimately a solitary journey
For which relatively few have rhyme or reason,
Much less inclination and capacity.

* * * *
So many languages in this dream world.
What a mind it would take to comprehend them all.
An intellectual reverie well beyond the capability and pay grade
Of anyone bound by the frailties of mortal capacity.