descending ananda

still expecting the first realization to end at last
the season of beginning never seems to find passage to the last
where every sight of the final meaning vanishes before you in mirages of heated reflection
one step continues and the next repeats the message
i am in motion not in time but over seas of mysterious passion

the flatness of awareness settles behind the eyes and the well of consciousness descends ever deeper
one silent prayer escapes your thoughtless mind and the sing song of serendipity surrenders you from hope
clean rivers of warm reasons glide past uneven and useless
mostly yellow but somehow green the lights in finely etched patterns speak
time waits one tick untocked forever silent
dogs bark without reason but answers come to you and then a word appears
grace wordless grace descending ananda fills
hearts sit still eyes open shut and skin trembles
where the life sings here there is silence
where the feelings play havoc and ricochet there is only felled emotions docile and bent low
passion becomes anchored in settled waters as
compassion wells in the southering emptiness overwhelming the thoughtless spaces inside your mindless machines
glow dark the sunless reaches where hands recoil and fingers spy on daily duties counted left and gone as one by one the fruit of our labor is denied
one just stands and then tumbles with a final idea of what it means to have broken and never got put back again
the passage empties into the face of the children wishing for the prize eyeing the dangling hatpiece and money belts full of skin and feast
take more than you need and leave none remain where the least might find solace and the dying be made rich. here is the passage of mans desire where doorknobs break and leave rooms full of the trapped and condemned