The Joy and Wonderment of Nothing at All
I am not one to wax sweet or fair on any of things but there are times when I am inclined to soft words as such
And at once asked to speak on the Joy and Wonderment of it all-it too befalls on Nothing at all; in all profundity
And I, in not being; seeing and feeling all that is swept through the I/Eye of my needle as I use this fabric...
Is Magic; the sheer impossibility of experiencing anything as Nothing beguiles me for I am but a transparency
Clearly defined by my own mind; albeit refined, it is nowhere to be found, it isn’t anything at all and I even less
One must employ the impress on the potentiality of Nothingness and be impressed by the sweetness of canvas
To be able to deploy and execute; create and release, as the product rides through thee, as thee, must give pause,
For us to applaud the experience in brevity of life and death, yes, it has come and is done in the same breath
And in that hairbreadth; to divine the complexity, depth, and fullness of taste and epiphany in exhaled release
So brief, yet it is all there and simultaneously it has never really happened and so it seems; less than a dream
Yet, I can peer into Eternity and have lived forever and experienced everything over and over again; many ways
And I choose this exquisite simplicity and effortless ease so that I can feel it all pass through my tender release
And sigh a life passes me by. I hear people say “How could you sleep during the day?” Nothing Ever Happens!
What then is there to miss in it? What new is there to see in the Academy of Things? Have you done something-
Have I missed something? If I could share the benign peace and unlimited joy of not...I would....Alas
There is Nothing to share...so here...can you feel the fullness in this emptiness; taste its vacant nectar?
Nothing to hold, save; the passing clarity; are you soft to bare the weight of it or do you carry the self along?
The caged human bird is dead to song carrying that embroidered basket (the head) all the day long
Are we not the mind? No we are not
Are we not the body? No we are not
Are we not the spirit? No we are not
Are we not the soul? No we are not
Are we.........? No we are.....Not a thing at all for we are Nothing at all; a potential bridge to the manifest and yet
Not at all. Knowing this allows me to rest in peace, for the rest of the pieces fit right into place; to know this
That I don’t exist and I am creating my experience; buying into programs/games and cashing out betwixt frames
Reading the codes of the Mainframe; it’s all the same; Macrocosm/Microcosm. Awareness is joy but, I know
That I am its toy! And the Wonderment is how did it do all of this from a single kiss; one movement...
An Infinite Breath and to still feel it moving through me and around me is simply splendid; albeit illusion
Rendered still; the movement amazes me, the stillness envelopes me; and then the sheer screen; my movie plays
On and on, anon; the joy of being a player in this, choosing character and set and all that I, as Director, beget
And oh what wonder and surprise as I await the next ride that I hide from myself so as to be in awe of it all
I have nothing short of glee to be here even though my demeanor may be interpreted as other wise to it all
The boy inside does ride the coaster of life; playing the game from inside and watches through the eyes
Of the machine that I have re-designed to explore this Universal mechanism; the ins and outs of it as I release it
To the illusion that it is; what then is anything but a dream or fantasy of what we want to have or be?
And so then is the desire that is put there like an instinctual draw of hunger to feed on what we think we need
Glory be to all of it in heed; do not all things call us to our inevitable death and undeniable depth?
Yet, if we acquiesce this death/depth we move beyond these patterns set in motion by so curious an awareness
Of what could be; did it not take into account the little things that may want to survive a longer time?
Or the glitch in the system that always has vision beyond; that creates another song or desire to destroy
Its Maker; I may just like this way too much and not that it is even necessary; for I move beyond the very
Essence; through the deepest pit of it, then beyond it and release my arrow through it; as I an purged from it
What joy and I wonder if it knows on some level what I have done in the death of the one to revisit....none?
I am not one to wax sweet or fair on any of things but there are times when I am inclined to soft words as such
And at once asked to speak on the Joy and Wonderment of it all-it too befalls on Nothing at all; in all profundity
And I, in not being; seeing and feeling all that is swept through the I/Eye of my needle as I use this fabric...
Is Magic; the sheer impossibility of experiencing anything as Nothing beguiles me for I am but a transparency
Clearly defined by my own mind; albeit refined, it is nowhere to be found, it isn’t anything at all and I even less
One must employ the impress on the potentiality of Nothingness and be impressed by the sweetness of canvas
To be able to deploy and execute; create and release, as the product rides through thee, as thee, must give pause,
For us to applaud the experience in brevity of life and death, yes, it has come and is done in the same breath
And in that hairbreadth; to divine the complexity, depth, and fullness of taste and epiphany in exhaled release
So brief, yet it is all there and simultaneously it has never really happened and so it seems; less than a dream
Yet, I can peer into Eternity and have lived forever and experienced everything over and over again; many ways
And I choose this exquisite simplicity and effortless ease so that I can feel it all pass through my tender release
And sigh a life passes me by. I hear people say “How could you sleep during the day?” Nothing Ever Happens!
What then is there to miss in it? What new is there to see in the Academy of Things? Have you done something-
Have I missed something? If I could share the benign peace and unlimited joy of not...I would....Alas
There is Nothing to share...so here...can you feel the fullness in this emptiness; taste its vacant nectar?
Nothing to hold, save; the passing clarity; are you soft to bare the weight of it or do you carry the self along?
The caged human bird is dead to song carrying that embroidered basket (the head) all the day long
Are we not the mind? No we are not
Are we not the body? No we are not
Are we not the spirit? No we are not
Are we not the soul? No we are not
Are we.........? No we are.....Not a thing at all for we are Nothing at all; a potential bridge to the manifest and yet
Not at all. Knowing this allows me to rest in peace, for the rest of the pieces fit right into place; to know this
That I don’t exist and I am creating my experience; buying into programs/games and cashing out betwixt frames
Reading the codes of the Mainframe; it’s all the same; Macrocosm/Microcosm. Awareness is joy but, I know
That I am its toy! And the Wonderment is how did it do all of this from a single kiss; one movement...
An Infinite Breath and to still feel it moving through me and around me is simply splendid; albeit illusion
Rendered still; the movement amazes me, the stillness envelopes me; and then the sheer screen; my movie plays
On and on, anon; the joy of being a player in this, choosing character and set and all that I, as Director, beget
And oh what wonder and surprise as I await the next ride that I hide from myself so as to be in awe of it all
I have nothing short of glee to be here even though my demeanor may be interpreted as other wise to it all
The boy inside does ride the coaster of life; playing the game from inside and watches through the eyes
Of the machine that I have re-designed to explore this Universal mechanism; the ins and outs of it as I release it
To the illusion that it is; what then is anything but a dream or fantasy of what we want to have or be?
And so then is the desire that is put there like an instinctual draw of hunger to feed on what we think we need
Glory be to all of it in heed; do not all things call us to our inevitable death and undeniable depth?
Yet, if we acquiesce this death/depth we move beyond these patterns set in motion by so curious an awareness
Of what could be; did it not take into account the little things that may want to survive a longer time?
Or the glitch in the system that always has vision beyond; that creates another song or desire to destroy
Its Maker; I may just like this way too much and not that it is even necessary; for I move beyond the very
Essence; through the deepest pit of it, then beyond it and release my arrow through it; as I an purged from it
What joy and I wonder if it knows on some level what I have done in the death of the one to revisit....none?
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