The Mystery You Are


The Mystery You Are



There is no middleman between you and the mystery you are.

There is no need to endlessly agonize over questions that have no answer.

There is no need to believe, to worship, to follow, to pray, to grovel, to tithe, to dogmatize,

To dread judgments from an on-high, to quake over imaginary heavens and hells.

You are That I Am, you are that which is unborn, enduring, undying,

As untainted and free as you allow the state of mind to be.

 

* * * *

You are the mystery of you, the wonder of you, the eternity of you.

Only sensory perception, imaginary notion, separate you

From that most inescapably authentic reality.

Realize it, grapple it, know it, be it.

 

* * * *

How can the here-now, the ever-present moment, ever be born, destined to one day die?

How can that which is without attributes, that which is indivisible, ever exist?

How can there be light or dark? Sound or silence? Right or wrong?

How can there be any this, any that, in an indelible mystery,

In which space and time are not, have never been, will never be?

 

* * * *

Despite all assertions to the contrary, humankind is not the be-all-end-all of this manifest mystery theater.

We have certainly played out a remarkable reverie in our trifling fragment of space-time,

One possibly not replicated anywhere else across the starry-starry cosmos,

But our egocentric, ethnocentric, geocentric hullabaloo,

From whatever prelude to whatever finale,

Has never really been more

Than vanity-vanity-all-is-vanity on steroids.

At best a negligible undulation in the electromagnetic spectrum.

 

* * * *

Being domesticated, being cultivated, being trained, as a human being,

Does not make you any closer to godness than any other life form.

Every single beast has evolved from the same quantum origin.

The only difference between you and any other organism

Is an inexorable egocentricity born entirely of imaginary notion.

The entire human drama is nothing more than a collusion of consciousness,

Made possible by the evolutionary happenstance of an ingenious, group-oriented mind,

Two arms, two legs, a larynx, opposable thumbs, and high-capacity lungs.

No critter ever born into this mystery ever stood a chance.

And, being far too clever for our own good,

Neither, ultimately, do we.



Breadcrumbs 2015