We imagine we have forever
In this body
In this lifetime
We happily prefer
To conveniently disremember
All the analytics and statistics
Relative to the 100% possibility
Of our someday dying
Often up to the very last
Breath breathed
Still reflecting
Our gross ego
Burying ourselves in ourselves
With the many illusory things
That clutter up
An otherwise clueless life
Foregoing the real jewels
And hidden treasures
For all those transitory trinkets
Of what’s fleeting
Here today gone tomorrow
In the prisons we build
In all the love
That we think, wish
And dream we make
Too much of
The same old story
We finally dive
Off the platform of surrender
Into another mainline lifetime
Ocean of one truth
One conception
One victory
One resurrection
One answer
Innumerable exemplifications
One death
And one life through generations
Incarnation by incarnation
Poco y poco
The kid gloves come off
The blood of the lamb
Passing through another avenue in time
Searching for the lost ambrosial treasure
Searching the nectar
As the lotus blossom slowly opens
With the radiance of divine mercy
Without shame or reservation
For fear of some devastating failure
Or a selfish pride we cling to
Having waited in line
At imagination station
So as to hit the mark
Spot on dime
Dead nuts
Without volition
Or reflection
As is tradition
As if we were just actors on a stage
With permanent masks
Trying to disguise
The same hidden fear
Spawned by true believers
As to our intrinsic irrelevance
And our apparently vast insignificance

Or to reveal a bejeweled
Beloved splender
Holding divine office incognito
In the heart
Of the prison mind

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