16 May 2014

One Hundred and Thirty-Two


Another soul twisted and turned by the play of time and space, as are we all.
How we engage the given nature-nurture dreamtime
Is full of choiceless choices.

* * * *
You are in this particular form by the caprice of the genetic lottery,
By a random role of the dice in your mothers womb.
Nothing to get all pride-filled about.

* * * *
History has never once repeated itself.
It is patterns that play out over and over again
Across every time, every geography.

* * * *
Just because you were not raised in a castle
Need not contrive you any less noble
In your own heart and mind.

* * * *
You think, therefore you are.
You think, therefore it is.
How could it be any other way?

* * * *
What need for dogma in a free mind.

* * * *
The ever-changing is but a sensory dream.

* * * *
In its all but ceaseless, time-bound pursuit of security,
Imagination sows the seeds for every dread imaginable.

* * * *
Today’s resolutions are never guaranteed to be the morrow’s.

* * * *
What would your face look like if you had never seen its reflection?

* * * *
And what if that which so many call god is really equally good and evil?
Perhaps it is only the notion born of dualistic limitation that needs changing.