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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