30 May 2014

One Hundred and Thirty-Nine


139


Different time, different language, different face, pretty much the same conversation.

* * * *
Be so vulnerable as to without hesitation proffer the executioner your neck.

* * * *
What is ever new but the ever-present you under the ever-present sun.

* * * *
The sands of time are but the ever-shifting dunes of imagination.

* * * *
What is cause, what is effect, in the holography of if it all?

* * * *
The passions are but passing waves of imagination.

* * * *
Nothing for as far as you can see.

* * * *
Awareness is all.

* * * *
What a vain, frail dream.

* * * *
Those who cannot comprehend, judge.

* * * *
No expectations known, what need for anything?

* * * *
And on the eighth day, god wept, sighed, and trudged on.

* * * *
The great Just-in-Case once again raises its precautionary head.

* * * *
The greatest demon may not necessarily be the one who looks the part.

* * * *
What narrow, limited, confining views of god are harbored by any given dogma.