23 July 2015

Four Hundred and Ninety


If you were that which is godness, and wanted to experience each and every one-of-a-kind creation,
How else to do it but by casting your Self center stage in each and every role?
It is, indeed, a god-eat-god, beyond-all-pales mystery.
And you are the godness.

* * * *
No one is truly free in this mortal human paradigm.
Ultimately, all are bound by one frame of reference or another.
Bound by geography, culture, religion, language, gender, conditioning, events,
Capacities and limitations, ambition, opportunities, ad infinitum.
Like it or no, that is how the genetic lottery rolls.

* * * *
Timelines within timelines within timelines,
An indivisible quantum sea playing out a space-time relativity.
Everything written in the sands of ever-timeless time,
For you to discern as mind and heart allow
In this very mortal walkabout.

* * * *
Who, what, why, when, where, how are you,
But imagination attached to its manifest dream.
Still the many thoughts the senses inspire,
And be the anonymous, faceless one.

* * * *
Someone spins a parable, the future calls it scripture,
And if enough glom on, it may even become a religion.
Dogma, idolatry, persecution, and mayhem sure to follow.

* * * *
What is memory but electrical impulses whizzing down neural trails?
What is emotion but biochemical secretions oozing through membranes?
It is imagination’s translation of sensation that navigates any given existence.

* * * *
So many families with unhappy, wretched sagas.
What is that worn adage about blood being thicker than water?
What might that mean if twists of irony and paradox were to tinge the brew?
Is it thicker than the water of the womb?  Is it thicker than the milk of the mother’s breast?
Or is it perhaps the blood bond, the mutual covenant between the truest of friends?
Are alliances we choose more earnest than the one into which we are born?
Is the blood-bond of friendship thicker than both water and milk?