Sometimes I wonder who I really am. In light of enlightenment who I am and who I am not, who I was and who I was not crawl into sharp focus. Which parts of me were really me, and which parts of me were nothing more then an illusion made up of experiences and ideas, which I hold onto for a sense of self?
The process of unravelling continues to dance passionately with my soul in the cooling radiance of innocence, blossoming in the moons light.
Some thoughts from the time these questions first arose in my awareness some short years ago......
IN SEARCH OF BIRTH
From the point of no return i have finally returned,
unscathed yet clothes tattered create a cause for concern/
In minds of loved ones, which love has now forgotton,
tongues speak sweetness like ripe peaches, though their
sentiment has grown rotton/
Sediment has grown solid, whatever could not escape,
the ice like rock like natural glacial lakes/
Was solidfied and now stands eternally,
as a sculpute to rep humanity which now uncannily/
Resembles death- Anubis in ancient egypt,
has been made mans best friend, we trade our bones for his
allegiance/
And since the fetus was constructed in laboratories,
we've been the creative force behind modern science's horror
stories/
And the products of that screen play thats on endless replay,
are always days away from their souls being sold on ebay/
To finance their great escape, destination- the altered state,
where brain waves automate the urge to altercate/
And conciously, common sence can no longer operate,
nor compensate for the stoned weight placed where the thoughts once
laid/
So obviously, this trip is a one way departure,
a fireball spinning out of control like the arrows of unskilled
archers/
Which unfortuantly have hit me repeatedly ,
like snake bites in Adam's garden, the eve bled shadows onto the
trees/
Astonishingly , i have not yet ceased to be,
or have become a corpse, which trees refer to as fallen leaves/
But as i was falling screamed, for it to just leave me be,
like a broken family who only communicate once annually/
And as you can see it did, swept up by a gale force wind,
impaled straight through my skin, with a branch like a broken shin/
i was reattached to the limb like regeneration set in,
yet my life was still hanging in, the balance like a pendulum/
And to this day it still is, and will be until i realize,
that these skies are just the canopy of this tree of lives/
Which we all derive our essence, and in essence are all connected,
and only those who connect with this, source can escape
breathlessness/
And live forever in bliss and be conscious of it,
a constant reminder of the destiny in which we have all been
summoned/
But which few listen for, and ignore for things that glisten more,
but this simple door-way to destiny can't be opened simply by
metaphor/
So with that in mind, i digress and leave the rest,
up to your own self discovery, as i learn to open this treasure
chest/
-Inside myself.
©Krishna Volk 2007
