Confusion begins believing there are others who impart their
precious knowledge to myself—
there is no one but oneself and that is all the knowledge
there is.
Without this experiential understanding, the rest is so much
noise and commotion.
So a sage points a finger to the moon and the world believes
it has to go there.
But listen to the little lower telling, I am Moon as You are
Moon and We are All the Absolute's Reflection.
The only authenticity is consciousness. All belief is
second-hand.
Not that there's anything wrong with this—
for the world—is like a Mayan auditorium—and Beethoven's
Ninth is the teacher—
the violence and sirens—the lies, betrayals, ignorance—and
inattention to—All the Signs of the Prophets—followed by an Ode to Joy and
Kensho—
In consciousness alone is the energetic feeling of the senses before
the mind creates a story all about it
—call this bliss—
and that eternal sudden insight into unborn Absolution—I am
That
Every lover knows what rebirth really means.
Every single person knows that sudden sighing of well-being
in deep sleep—like Death I would imagine.
.
