18 June 2014

Two Hundred


It is the nature of all civilizations to rise and fall.
To transform from lean, agile, fruitful, to obese, inept, barren.
From a foundation of gumption to one of absurdity,
From one motivated to one entitled.

* * * *
Make sense?  Why should it ever have to make sense?
What need for sanity in an insane asylum?
That’s the Catch-22 of it.

* * * *
If you truly realize you are that which is absolute,
Then what need is there to worship or pray,
To kiss your own ass, so to speak?

* * * *
A child has no history, no future,
Only the immediacy of the unfolding present
To which s/he gives full attention.
Let go your universe,
And rediscover your innocence.

* * * *
Nothing new under the sun?
Well, if it is new to you,
How much newer can it get?

* * * *
Whenever you totally surrender,
It always feels like the first time.

* * * *
Dimensions are merely more boundaries
Inlaid in the casting of infinity.
Ho-hum, yawn.
How many layers before you discern
That totality which is immeasurable, utterly boundless?

* * * *
There is an infinite eternal immensity
In the inner sanctum to which you alone have access,
To which words cannot help but be caught by the limitations of translation,
By the capacity for discernment of any given listener’s ear.