Something feels great big gobs of relief in knowing
That the only occurrence is spontaneous.
Things just happen as they should or shouldn’t without
Consciousness being present. And yet there’s no doubt
Things continue to function as many discuss
Ways that they can control them because that’s their thing.
Some things get in the way of my thinking clearly.
Knowing full well that that is an oxymoron,
Still I try to break through the illusion of me.
Thoughts and feelings are much of what I seem to be.
Cloudiness leads to conclusions falsely foregone.
Reset I must my consciousness to better see.
Everything is a “happening.” This is groovy!
Time warps are but ideas, but breathing is real
Just as retinal rods and cones processing light.
Fortunately no one trusts me to get that right.
In respectful observance I touch the ideal.
Knowing there’s no observer I’m there completely.
So, there’s no self to speak of. It’s all happening.
All of now is eternal and is everywhere.
Breathing in and out happens as wind moves the clouds
Whether fate shows its favor to protesting crowds.
Nothing is more important than being aware
That distinction exists not. I am everything.