leaving behind the turmoils of suffering land
I contemplate the eternal movement of space
A constructed beauty free of lasting grace
Vision's forms are breathed to life so dreams too
I see Ego's endless play through and through
From delicate white curtain of a magical mist
crouching, ever ready It attempts a final twist
Two white proud horses appear and stand
But I see they rest on ever shifting sands
In an instant these creations cease, all is still
Such is the power of Mind's focused will
So I come home to the all abiding calm,
The only truly eternal balm.
(10/10/12leod)c
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for your comment which will be reviewed by the administrator.