The countless sanctuaries and monuments humanity has built,
Pointlessly clutch at that which can never be possessed.
All temples, all forms, are as dust to the eternal.
Mankind's organizing the spiritual quest,
Arises from the mind's ceaselessly futile attempts,
To fabricate an order upon that which can never be tamed.
* * * *
Do more, be more, get more.
More, more, more, more, more.
Will you ever have enough?
Will you ever be content,
With what you have,
Or what you are?
* * * *
You are free to do whatever you will,
Live whatever dream you are inclined to entertain,
Play out the endless fantasies your restless narcissism creates,
Until its shallow nature sustains you no longer.
* * * *
Continuity is illusion, a subtle trick of memory, of imagination.
The indivisible waves of reality timelessly break ever anew.
* * * *
No matter how many words you use, it is not they that bind all this together.
* * * *
Who would not like to meet and hear what was actually said by the many seers,
Before the propaganda mills of time usurped them to their own ends?
Histories have always been written and edited and rewritten,
By those who won, survived, or passed by later.
* * * *
Do you not grow weary of tyrannical forces?
The tyranny of politicians, priests, and educators;
Of the bureaucrats, and self-interests in every realm;
Of the endless disparity between the haves and have-nots;
Of this concept or that, of the corruption, however it may flow?
Seek out your real community, your tribe, your brothers and sisters.
Your family is out there: intelligent, simple, honest, virtuous, just like you.
* * * *
Just as you have looked down at an arm and hand, or a leg and foot,
So has every other human who has ever been, or will ever be.
Your uniqueness is pervaded by an eternal commonality.