That which is true can not be spoken
You will not find it in words or tokens
Stride through mental fairylands
And be swallowed up quicker than quick sand
Venture the depth of the human intellect
to stay blind and neglect that which is already perfect
Compare the drama of your childhood trauma
And be echoing the emotional coma
Until our suns supernova
All the above are movements of thought which keep the wheel spinning
Round and round,
Round and round in circles, never ending circles of circular logic
Defining itself with itself through itself for itself
Calling, declaring, insisting to be
the one and only truth
Have you heard that before? Hmm, maybe
Never mind, don’t look too closely.
There is somebody out there who knows what’s up. Right? Don’t ask me
A specialist, a scientist, a generalist, a theologist,
Has a theory, a clue about what this is.
But aren’t you the protagonist of your existence?
That which is true can not be thought or spoken
The one who rests in that has awoken
Find it in the gaps between your thought
Follow the roots of your breath and become an internal astronaut
Unravel your mind like it’s a ball of yarn
Peel of the layers of self-identity and unlearn
The ways of men by sitting in stillness
and bliss will wrap it’s soft wings around your lost soul
and bit by bit the scattered pieces will again become whole
and bit by bit the false in you will loose it’s grip, it’s control
over that which is you at your center, your core.
And rediscover that That is even more
Than you could have ever thought
Than you could have ever dreamt
It’s the One, one without beginning and end.