06 September 2014

Three Hundred and Twenty-Six


What is needed to abide, perhaps thrive, in this manifest dream of a world?
Intelligence, common sense, street smarts, discipline, skills,
Gumption, initiative, creativity, detachment,
And whatever else words such as these might imply.

* * * *
Any colossus is ultimately doomed to perish to something smaller,
Assuming, of course, that it does not fall on its own sword,
Or just slowly whither from age and self-loathing.

* * * *
The universe the senses and mind offer is your eternal teacher,
And will use every feasible device to awaken you,
Whether or not it is your calling.

* * * *
Humankind is perhaps the most pathological cancer
Ever devised by this dreamy panorama of a matrix.

* * * *
Would that there were a rewind button
For all the perceived errors and regrets.

* * * *
If you are not completely present,
Completely, with fresh eyes, here now,
Then you wander the death of recollection,
Oblivious to the eternal nature in every moment.

* * * *
There is really no label for anything,
But the mind born of time is always grasping
To give everything one name, one sound or another.

* * * *
And, pray tell me, Pilgrim,
From where does all this intelligence arise,
If not from the vital source intrinsic in all things great and small?

* * * *
You are That to which all prayers are imparted
By those who delude themselves into believing such pursuits
Have any real meaning or purpose other than to muffle their fear of the unknown.