23 August 2014

Three Hundred and Six


Prior to the body and all its sensory inputs,
Prior to the mind and all its ephemeral concoctions,
Prior to consciousness in every way, every shape, every form,
You are.

* * * *
Opening the door for a true believer of any make or model
Is like trying to liberate a bird whose mind
Is little more than a cage.

* * * *
None of it has ever really mattered,
And in a relative sense, it will not be much longer
Before what never really mattered,
Will matter even less.

* * * *
Was it God that created man in his own image,
Or man that created god in his?
Seriously folks,
Isn’t it more than obvious?

* * * *
Truth, that which was, is, and will ever be.
Of things that constantly change,
Truth is not one of them.

* * * *
Challenging as it all too often is,
Try not to be too blinded by your cynicism.
Despite the play and its players,
There is wonder in it all.

* * * *
Words ceaselessly meander
Through the corridors of imagination,
Concocting every variety of fantastical enterprise.

* * * *
No form is the source of its own intelligence
Any more than a piece of jewelry is source of its own beauty.
It is the intrinsic gold, the quantum essence, that which is within and without,
That creates and sustains all that is temporal from great to small.