28 July 2014

Two Hundred and Fifty-Eight


The nature of knowledge is that it must ever be re-kindled anew,
Or be quickly lost in the transience of Eden’s inexplicable enterprise.
Minds fail, clay tablets break, books dissolve, and the digital world
Is but an flick of a switch away from the black hole of oblivion.

* * * *
So many ways this vain dream can be played out.
No need to follow, no need to imitate, no need to duplicate,
For those who have the courage to wander alone.

* * * *
How can the indivisible quantum ether essence,
The unborn, undying source of all life,
All forms, all consciousness,
Ever really live fully?

* * * *
Heaven and hell are just tourist attractions.
Travelers wander the vast elsewhere.

* * * *
We are all kin of the same creation.

* * * *
Even shit is sacred.
Without its golden reality,
Neither flowers nor you would be.

* * * *
The behavior of any individual,
The synergy of any group,
Can cultivate both boon and bane,
Advantage and detriment, fortune and blight,
Benefit and bother, blessing and horror.
For every action, consequence,
For every cause, effect.

* * * *
What are any of us but a few handfuls of star dust
Temporarily organized to partake a relatively few breaths
Until the quantum abyss of oblivion resumes its formless nature.
The only difference between existence and non-existence
Is in the whimsical narration of the sensory mind.