It was not until the third day
of being deep in the wild
With no one to talk to
Nothing to eat
and no where to find comfort.
With the sun scanning and baking my body,
the birdsong drawing me
deeper into a presence
that the trees silently witnessed…
I catch whiffs of my animal scent
And hear my creaturely groaning
And watch the convoy of memories, ideas
And all manner of thought forms
pass across the vast desert of
mind cracking open..
And the ants investigate my naked body,
the flies relentlessly inspect all the orifices,
And I swat and agitate
And move over there and lie down
Sit, stand, sing, pray, sit, lie, talk…
Until… no more. No more running.
Silent still surrender blossoms and
Breaks through the crust of control
red hot magma
spilling over the landscape of mind.
scorching submission
Humbled prostrations
At the greatest altar there is
Wild nature holding up
The mirror of truth
The all-seeing “I”
Asking questions
That can only be answered now
I have shut the fuck up
And sat the fuck down
to finally be present to What Is.
And then it begins,
The rare questions emerge
The ones that pierce
through calcified walls of identity
And excuses..
And protection..
What was?
what will be?
Delusion or awakening?
Lie or truth?
Fear or love?
WHO AM I?
To Quest is to face the questions
of the Soul
Full frontal
No defences
Splayed open.
Going all the way.
Now, my ego is scarred
The arrows landed deep…
And there is nothing more to do
Than live the answers to those questions.
Nothing more.
