10 June 2014

One Hundred and Eighty-Seven


187


You have climbed the mountain,
You have flown to the sun and fallen to the earth,
You have wandered the cosmos, you have witnessed all creation,
And you have discerned clearly the eternal absolute within each and every particle.
So, Pilgrim, what next?

* * * *
To ignore or deny the eternal life of the ever-streaming now,
Is to miss what is, both within and without,
In every moment apparent.

* * * *
Yes, No, Maybe, If … big words, indeed.

* * * *
Old school will rise again.

* * * *
Yabber on.

* * * *
How quickly time fades
Into the vaguest of memories,
Gradually, inevitably, to be lost forever
In the vast emptiness of eternity.

* * * *
So many minds, so many universes,
With which one may be totally enthralled,
Or, with the first few utterances, lose all interest.

* * * *
There is nothing not born of the same mystery,
But the real mystery is how we have made it this far,
How we have survived all our vain foolishness for this long.

* * * *
Mother Nature only allows each of us
To play out this little reverie for the briefest of whiles,
And then one-by-one melts all down for another generation’s accession.
To think of oneself as more than a fleeting piece of jewelry
Is to miss discerning the essence you really are
In this indivisible matrix of a theater.