How Many Rounds?

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by Zen Gardner
January 14, 2020

 

How many rounds of same old stuff until the bubble pops?

How many times to learn in life until frustration stops?

Layers up and layers down while wheels go round and round

“The bottom now we finally hit? There’s hardly any sound!”

 

The ground breaks through, false floor again, as mind bursts round the bend

“Again?” I cried. “Another lie? When will this learning end?

“I’ve tried it all, took every fall, I’ve searched for treasure wide!

Surely answers wait beyond the gate, I know it deep inside!”

 

“Aha” a voice so gently mocks, loving yet amused.

“It seems that seeking answers are why you are thus con-fused.”

I gasp for air and strength to bear, “Another round?” I mused.

This weary searcher, heart in hand, is clearly just bemused.

 

“It’s never wrong”, the Voice’s song, “Just let it come to you.”

“What you seek is what you are. This is the seeker’s rue.”

“But why this seeking, hungry heart? What is it I can’t see?”

“You’ll reach an end, when’ere it hits. The layers just a tease.”

 

I pondered there, on umpteenth floor, soon looking for a door.

“Step through it now” something calls. “Yourself your only moor.”

“How can that be? I’m only me! The truth I seek is all!”

“Leave all behind and step on through, you’ll see there was no door.”

 

 

Our seeker drops his hands to side, and thinks there’s aught to lose

“I’ve tried it all repeatedly, OK, I’ll step aside.

I’m weary with the traveling, the running here and fro

There’s clearly now, aft all attempts, nowhere else to go.”

 

“It’s never here, yet always is.” the Voice in comfort speaks

“Outside this realm yet always in.” The riddle seems to peak.

“I know the truth it permeates” I cry, “Yes every living thing!

But crashing down thru barriers has been no pleasant fling!”

 

“So what?” retorts of the voice of Truth. “What schedule are you on?

You presume to know or understand before you’re even born.

That ignorance has parted you, and prevents like prison moat

Survival of this thing called you is what’s kept self afloat.”

 

“In punctured time, creations rhyme, you think you understand?

Humility is knowing self has nowhere aught to stand.

You are not you, as you perceive, in fact you’re just like me.

Keep falling through, and graceful take, the who and how to be.”

 

I’m flummoxed now, yet calm somehow. I know it’s Truth I hear

It resonates with all I’ve learned, yet learning is not Me!

The cycles burst and bubbles pop, alas we’ve given birth

To what was true so all along. What all of it was worth.

 

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