Thursday, March 23, 2017

Ode to Ouroboros, Dad

Another name for separation is division is the politics of mind. 

However, eight limbs of a spider sail across this living room by a single loving thread.

Dad, they say you died forty-four years ago tonight but still I wait to hear the peepers.

You hated Richard Nixon with a passion but you missed the great Apocalypse of Watergate. All in vain.

But like Jesus says thank God we're only in this world—for nothing of this world can change it.

In this circle of Archimedean things, division always ends in more division.

But where love is primary school and universal consciousness, the deeper understanding, all division is just imaginary numbers.

It's either become a bodhisattva and save the world or Buddha sees there's not a world to save. There is no difference. Either way.

Does the head devour the tail or does the tail emerge from out of the head?

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