26 December 2014

Four Hundred and Fifty-Three


When the given body hungers, when it thirsts, it seeks out food and water.
But that which slakes the ravenousness nature of the unquenchable mind,
Is an existential question to which each dreamer must alone find answer.

* * * *
You are but a minute speck of this vast conundrum of a universe,
That happened, for whatever speculation might be mustered,
To have been born into this dreamtime as a human being,
Into a particular geography, with a particular mindset,
To which you have likely become far too attached.

* * * *
We all in any given interaction present our inner truth,
And if we present a lie, then a lie is our truth.
Whether or not one sees the difference
Is the lie’s truest meaning.

* * * *
The shift from consciousness to awareness
Is like a submarine moving from the churning surface
To the stillness of the tranquil depths below.

* * * *
What if you truly discerned
That you had gotten it all wrong?
Would you be able to somehow recalibrate
And like an uncarved block, start over, begin anew?

* * * *
From the mystery godness formed.
With its isness godness spun manifestation.
Without this mystical patterning no thing would be,
Yet its untouchable original nature will forever be unknown.

* * * *
Everyone is dealt a different hand
In this poker game of time and space.
Each plays it out as the given cards allow,
But it is nothing more than smoke and mirrors.
And someday, no matter how well any player bluffs,
Every stack of chips inevitably tumbles to the last wager.
Masks and hands ever change, but the game goes on and on,
For as long as the house has the chips to play and cards to shuffle.