attainment – The Halfwit Writer

magic of mind

believe in magic
believe in love
    believe that life is a gift above
     all else believe that happiness is real
not to be attained, but
        merely discovered
pull back the cover, the visage of misery
for underneath,   already there
   is joy,   and peace,   and fearlessness
magical and pure
   suffering’s cure
           such allure
& haute couture
     we make a dress of bliss
a lightweight garb
   heavenly feeling, free of attachment
free of hatred
          free of ignorance
   created with equanimity and compassion
rainbow fabric of delight
not temporary, but everlasting
     not truly existent,
     but purified, transformed and increased!
what sorcery is this!
     not wizardry of external means
    but a realization of mind
             my mind, your mind
     pouring water into water
     mixed inseparable
may I be free from delusions
may I fortify my magic
    may I never wreak havoc
        (more than I already have)
      may I only give Dharma,
        material help, fearlessness and love
          may I be a treasure from above
ultimately,         at last I find
         a magician’s alchemy
   is mind over matter
        for all matter is mind

What ho!

I am utterly transformed
I can never again see with false eyes
I have abandoned many fears

Never again can I commit tyranny
unable to slay a foe without mercy
still a warrior, dedicated practiced

Once, my armor gleamed in the sun
now, it is bloodstained, tarnished with use
a hero’s pay is his next adventure

As I sit atop the lower falls, and
waking dream what now I see
remembering how this came to be

Observe not one, but many parts
not one singularity exists,
trunks turn out branches bearing leaves
which nestle insects or yield to mites
though some call it chaos mistakenly

I now see the forest for the trees
fragmented phenomena, often
incorrectly imputed as one object

How can it exist but in name?
Dependent relationships
making us dependent people,
striving for independence from
everyone but our own false self

Not anymore

Now when I feel autumn stretch her
roots into August mornings, shrinking daylight
when I feel her come in on the breeze
I know the tears that fall are but
impressions of the misdeeds long past done
just re-emerging memories unsettled in
summer’s dry heat, like dust

Now, clarity.

Lower Falls