Behind the Words - Part 1 of 3: That Which We Are

 

Even behind a condescending smile

Shines the Truth—

 

Behind the white or yellow teeth,

Behind a fit of insanity,

The rolling and gurgling brook

Swelling fast with heavy rain—

 

Then the senses are flooded too,

With premeditated propaganda,

Irresponsible or responsible

In design. The power of this media—

 

So engrossed we dive,

The instinct, magnetic,

We engage in a world of colours

And sound so bright and real—

 

The words, oh the words,

Abounding thoughts.

The endless waves

And rain does swallow—

 

Yet who is swallowed?

Not the victim to be sure,

For he is constructed

From these thoughts.

Like teeth eating teeth,

Quite impossible indeed—

 

Are we the Truth?

Our bright and shining Self?

The Watcher of the storm,

The Be-er of experience,

The Light of darkness—

 

Belief too gets flushed away

With thoughts,

As the old paint of uncertainty

Flakes off, revealing boundless

Space and timeless commotion—

 

How ironic! This Pure Absence

Has never been extinguished.        

How could it, when it is

Not material?

We already know,

This first and last truth,

How could we not?

For we are This,

And This is all. 

MS21