06 September 2014

Three Hundred and Twenty-Four


It all means whatever you choose to believe it means until you clearly realize
Even the most profound vision of that prior to all imagination
Really means absolutely nothing at all.

* * * *
Quantum, the source of all things.
Who else, what else, where else, when else, why else, how else,
Could all this possibly be?

* * * *
You may be that mystery which is godness,
But you are still cousin to a multitude of monkeys,
Chimpanzees, gorillas and other primates.
In other words, you are but a beast,
An evolutionary invention
Of puddle magic
And muddied thinking.

* * * *
In the back-and-forth between you and You,
One is mind-full, the other mind-less.

* * * *
You already are the eternal life.
For what is there to pray?
What need for some imaginary god?
You alone translate creation into heaven or hell.

* * * *
We all know different things,
We all perceive different universes,
We are all stained by different experiences,
Yet we are all born of the same mystery all the while.

* * * *
Let Atlas carry the woes of the world,
Or Sisyphus push them daily up the mountain.
Walk lightly, walk freely, wherever whim may take you.

* * * *
Judgment, such a insensitive thing,
Which so many resent focused upon themselves,
But so readily and without hesitation inflict upon so many others.