You are the ground,
The splintered I Amness of isness,
Creator and witness to an inexplicable theater,
A dreamer dreaming the kaleidoscoping quantum show real,
The timeless nature masked by endless variations of laughter and sorrow.
Why? No one can know. That you are, is surely enough.
* * * *
Nothing wrought of this quantum genesis is ultimately real.
Everything is imagined, everything is dreamily timeless.
All indivisibly appearing, all indivisibly disappearing,
Within and without the eternal matrix of awareness.
* * * *
Surrender your identity;
Your concepts and cravings;
Your fears, irritations, and doubts;
Your knowledge, opinions, and routines;
Your ambitions to achieve one glory or another.
Surrender everything you believe you are,
That you have never really been.
* * * *
There is no Eastern or Western thought;
Only an awareness manifesting consciousness,
Blanketed by an innumerable array of mythologies.
* * * *
If you smugly believe yourself more spiritually significant,
Than a cockroach, grain of sand, or pile of dung,
Then you are missing the real point.
There is profound wonder in realizing you are one,
With worms, snails, lice, flies, toads, salamanders, and snakes.
* * * *
Are you able to scrutinize your existence,
Without any attachment, any craving, any trepidation?
Dispassionately, objectively, reserving all pride-filled judgments;
Discerning forthrightly, clearly, without ulterior motive;
Observing closely the many joys and sorrows,
The likes and dislikes, the loves and hates,
The thoughts, beliefs, opinions, conclusions,
The endless flow of people, places, things, ideas,
The seemingly boundless array of passing experiences;
And come to the realization that it was really all your creation.
An inexplicable, intangible, ungraspable, timelessly indivisible journey;
Imagined by a dreamer, whose ultimately choiceless nature, is prior to all imagination.