The awakened see
that at one time they were a woman, a man,
perhaps a bee, an ant, amoeba, or fish,
and happiness cannot be contained in a dish,
oppression, division, exclusion, and seclusion,
impossible for an awakened heart, unimaginable.
Yet here we are, in a world of war, pain and despair,
where beings are cast, rejected, even by silly color of hair.
Awakened ones try, sent by a wish, a dream, possibility,
to put an end to cycle of endless desires and futility.
Why some awake and some do not,
the mistake of creation is difficult to spot,
or is it a purpose, a game we must play,
in order to fly, to breathe, to cross this vast bay.
A mother, a father, sibling or pet,
all are confined in life’s large net,
some joyfully playing, some writhing in pain,
how can hearts contain so much strain?
They cannot, don’t you see, and thus
they ache until they are free.
“Be in the moment,” the sages instruct,
and beings try with all of their might,
but it is not might that dawns the happy end,
but letting go of all, transcend, and cease the pretend.
Words … so many words, painting paths,
for beings infinite with listening hearts.
The awakened see
with eyes cosmos-centic
and hearts with much glee,
embracing the happy, sorrowful and mad,
all equal in hearts that are always glad,
minds are at peace in the turbulent seas,
accepting the healthy and those with disease,
yet reaching their hands, in borrowed bodies,
their endless compassion soothing maladies.
Unsung heroes, promoters of peace,
their presence alone encourages release.
They want naught, only offer kindness and love,
and show others a path to above.
Why do I write, sing these songs,
why do I try, amongst so much noise,
why, oh why, I ask my heart?
It whispers in code,
it cajoles for more,
“sing” it says,
for many or one,
Warm the horizon,
show there is hope,
every one needs
a bit of soap
to wash off the dust,
untangle, and trust.