If this world was never seen
I still would live inside this dream
to experience the great divide
between what One reveals and what It hides.
And if this world drew its last gasp
I’d wonder where the other half
of knowing was that it did not know
whatever comes also must go.
And so why bother to be and see
the changes that are born of thee?
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What use then, Friend, of faith or doubt
when there is no meaning — no all about?
But must there be a reason, must there be cause?
Or is it enough to be the “is” that always “was”?
What matters, then, what you think or know
if neither of these anchor against the flow?
Perhaps this world I think I am in
is merely the end of an upturned grin
of the always, infinite never been.
Because being is not a cause, but a result
of the What/Who is beyond Itself
And so no purpose, no reason, no rules
for all of these are linked to fools
who need to know the by-and-by
instead of swimming the clear, blue sky.
Seems the world is a dream of Dreamer One
who never sleeps, but dreams for fun.
And with this thought, another dream’s begun…
