There is no practice, way, or path,
No future place, no lingering past,
Nothing is real, and nothing dream;
Everything that is, just seems,
and is connected but still free
to think with selfish vanity
That by itself it came to be.
What folly, to imagine this
and seek elsewhere for endless bliss
That is already here and now
Without your discipline or vow.
Each breath you take is sacred space
Transcending time, and self, and place.
You are already where it’s at,
And gone beyond. Imagine that!
24 AUG 2024
