Tag Archive | universe

There Is No Insecurity

Well Worth Repetition

If God so clothed the ladybugs why should I fear
That I might become needy in ways that demean
Self-respect and life purpose? My faith tank is low.
Since Jesus is the boss’s son, shouldn’t I know
He’s also my big brother? Does that sound obscene?
Only that which is positive do I adhere.

He would not have been put to death in India,
Where the people believe we’re all God in disguise.
They would just have accepted him as a wise one.
But the task put upon him would not have been done
Were he not among wilder folk and much less wise
And with perverse attachments to harsh Roman law.

Today knowledge is plentiful as it has been
Throughout all human history. Teachings abound
For the self’s true awakening. Why do I wait?
Is it fear that my ego will not feel so great
Since it’s only a concept and nothing profound?
The chance to think of acting will come once again.

Transformation of myself into unattached
Selflessness is impossible. That is because
I have selfish reasons for wanting to do so.
In the death of the fake self the true one will grow
In accordance with all the spiritual laws.
In a nest of security my soul is hatched.

Enigma Be

Existence Indecipherable

Things get more out of order as time marches on.
Randomness unpredictable is quite the way
That the universe functions. With dark energy
Keeping things from collapsing most violently,
Gravity on the earth plane has but to obey
Forces that are entropic and ever foregone.

How many different ways something can occur
Is its measure of entropy. It is also…
Of all possible combinations energy
Can have both magnitude and direction. To be
In a world such as this one, much one need not know
Lest the mind be molested by its constant whirr.

Verily I say nothing if I mention not
That collisions in deep space make crap loads of light
That is bright and kinetic. It goes everywhere.
Gravity, for that purpose, is something to bear
And transform into purpose for making things right
By the stardust I’m made of. I am nature’s plot.

Every thing has its place, and it’s Out Of Order,
And with randomness left to imagination.
As part of the whole process, I need be aware
That I am such. I’ll do much to take special care
Of my share of enigma, for in the long run,
Everything that happens is as I would prefer.

It Is All Happening Now

Eternal Beingness

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.

Control

An Evasive Illusion

I control not my thoughts nor the ways that I feel.
In a real sense I am them. To give up control
Is to have it completely. If I were to try
To gain absolute power by force I apply,
It will only disturb things, which isn’t my goal.
I must trust what the universe has to reveal.

Like a good friend this universe can be to me.
Trusting it like a person who knows me quite well,
I can give up the struggle of lying awake
Fretting over control of things. What A Headache!
But the friend who’s much bigger can banish the spell
 If my faith in this kind one is of high degree.

Universes are bodies. Cells know who they are
And have things delegated at every level.
If I can but allow them to do their damned work,
Then perhaps they would think that I’m not such a jerk
Having tried to control them. I’ve put them through hell.
My relationship with them is not up to par.

That which flows to all things and does nourish them all –
Both the left and the right and all manner between –
Lords not over creation nor seeks any claim
Of merit for accomplishments. All is the same
To the friend universal who surely has seen
Every bit of creation. I am not so small.

Our Time Is Limited

The Swirl Of Eternity

Mother nature gives birth to death, and life renews.
That’s the way it has been since it all came to be
Beheld within the consciousness of humankind
…Surely eons before that if one keeps in mind
That forever is something that humans can’t see.
Death is life’s invention. No one does it excuse.

If I live each day if it were to be my last,
Someday certainly I’ll be correct. But would I
Want to do things I’d planned on when I didn’t know
I’d have one day to do them? Perhaps I’d forego
Most for the most important so that when I die
I won’t leave a big mess by my living half-assed.

I’ll do well to remember my mortality.
Knowing that I’ll be dead someday is a great tool
To help me make big choices in life that remains
By the will of whatever existence maintains
To support constant change. Though up close it looks cruel,
From the spirit’s perspective, there’s much more to see.

 I am already naked. I’ve nothing to lose
So there’s no good reason to not follow my heart.
Death is life’s special agent. It moves me along
So that I am prepared for a richer swan song.
I must not live for others nor be torn apart
By entrapment in dogma and death-wishing views.

Moving More Matter

Conundrum of Movement

The reason that the universe is hard to know
In its absolute realness is that it’s not real.
It exists to contain us and is made of thought
To maintain the impression we in spirit bought
As The perfect illusion. Our senses conceal
What the soul knows as spirit so that we may grow.

Everything made of substance that senses behold,
On the tiniest level, is nothing but pure
Mathematical formulae… truly abstract.
So, compounded abstraction is taken for fact.
We embrace the preclusion that it may endure
Until some better breakthrough is due to unfold.

Unfolding is a movement of things, as they are
Synchronized in connection and interwoven.
It expands subtle fabric that spirit has made.
It is by our design that true sight is delayed
Perhaps until returning to where we had been.
With such manner of movement, one can’t go too far.

Having thus been created from nothingness, we
Are made of the same building blocks nature provides.
To add to the confusion, we make it make sense
Through the rational process and some scant pretense.
Each, as part of the whole, is the one who decides
Their own place in reality and how to see.