07 February 2012


The manifest dance is timeless, momentary, eternal.
A reverie without beginning, without end,
Without cause, purpose or meaning,
Neither definable or explicable,
For it is beyond all rational appearances.
It can never be known, comprehended or understood
Except in the most roundabout, circumspect, fluid, abstract ways.
And in that which is intuited there is no gain or reward,
One simply wanders spontaneously free,
Whatever the course.

* * * *
Taste the tasteless,
Hear the soundless,
Touch the untouchable,
Smell that which has no scent,
And you will see the unseen.

* * * *
All identity is make-believe,
A collusion of human scale.

* * * *
The many teachers of suffering:
Illness, injury, aging, dying and death,
Would you, could you, awaken without them?

* * * *
You, the seeker, are already that which is sought.
You are the source, the mystery, pure and simple.

* * * *
There can be no serenity
In the restlessness of desire,
The dread of fear, the isolation of anger,
Or the arrogance of pride.

* * * *
Occasionally, quietly, reflect within . . . "I am.”
That simple awareness is all you can really know.
Contemplate the thought closely, add nothing to it.
See its subtle movement to the source within.
Those persistent and discerning enough
Will surrender to the mystery within.