Flowers

Cut from the womb

Like a flower from its roots

We begin to fade

Into beautiful oblivion

A screaming ride

Or a gentle glide

Most beautiful close

To our rebirth

Into the Sky

As a freebird

We stretch

For that last

Ray of Sunlight

Enjoy our last Moon

Before we are drawn home

Into the original womb

The Black Sun

As above

So below

As within

So without

Oh to know

How beautiful

All these flowers

As they are

In the Eternal Now

Walking on the Shores of Oblivion

I walk on the shores of Oblivion
I long to swim in the waters of not knowing

There are many old goats who think they know
They confuse a thing with words which can not be spoken

I have never read the Vedas or Upanishads
Nor the Book of the Dead

I know nothing
I am blissfully empty as a pot after dinner

My teachers, the quiet
My heroes, the meek

Love flows from their lives
It fills every low place lifting all

Others seek to control and contain
But the fire spreads

It flows in our veins
We feel and live the Truth

The Truth is simple and for All
No secrets

To get back to the garden
To lay down that which was not ours to take

Oblivion is my destiny
I shall joyfully walk its shores and forget myself