Allan Morelock, June 17, 2007
© 2010 Allan Morelock
Micro sounds of
The cosmic breath
Say this day
Is my time.
Their tiny seeds
Of past events
Producing a
Forever feeling
Every place.
That which allows
Insentience
Its attractiveness
To intelligent minds
Is eternal freedom
Of the highest order,
For it is omnipresent.
Paradoxically the very ignorance
The seeker hopes to over come
Is perfectly one with
That freedom
Being sought.
Some call it God,
Some seek it at all Cost,
Only one day to realize
The common people
Live it day to day
In the simplest way.
The one who climbs at
The direst risk
The peak of
Mt. Everest
Realizes that
Even there,
The peak is made
Of the same soil
As his native place.
The soil does not
Think or say
I am more
Or different
Than other clay
And stone.
And yet,
Like drug addicts,
We go on
Thinking
Of our self imposed Gods,
And spiritual dreams;
And feel great joy
When others sit
And smoke with us
The drugs of
Devotion,
And lofty conversation