05 December 2014

Four Hundred and Thirty-One


Allowing the ever-conflicting winds of the world into your mind
Makes for a perpetual storm of every possible magnitude,
To which all wishfully final solutions are never final.

* * * *
It may all be written in the sands of time,
But it is you who must live it out one unknown at a time.
Free will, such as it is, looking forward,
Fate looking back.

* * * *
If there is a middleman between you and truth,
Then the only question is how thick is the lie.

* * * *
To recall how the world
Once inspired such longing, such passion.
Oh, those were the daze.

* * * *
The obvious only become obvious
When the mind and heart are clear,
Free of all meaningless burdens.

* * * *
Life is but a few breaths,
And back to sleep, back to sleep,
In the eternal manger prior to dreamtime.

* * * *
So small and so huge as to be indistinguishable
From the dynamic synergy of its countless parts.

* * * *
Words are entertaining distractions,
But to be completely alone, solitary to the infinite degree,
Well, what is there to think, really?

* * * *
Even when their dream is afire,
Human beings have the delusional capacity
To believe that god is watching over them, protecting them,
And that he/she/it will help them somehow continue on as they always have.