To be locked in a physical form for a while
Is both horror and wonder combined as the whole
Of a part of the nothingness whence wholeness came.
The world out there and right here are one and the same.
The costume of the flesh well embraces my soul.
I may act out my audience through my profile.
If I’m not the eternal, then what is the Tao
But a set of instructions for robots of grace?
I am here for a short time. It seems rather long.
Yet eternity whispers its unending song
Not of form nor of essence and through timeless space.
The Tao speaks only one word, and that word is Now.
Then becoming eternal is not a hard task.
It’s a matter of being then coming to know
That the universe is me and I am it too.
There’s no program to follow and nothing to do
But to bask in the cosmos’s generous flow
Of abundance. Indeed, what more could a soul ask?