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Poetry: gnosis and wisdom: truth, judgment, knowledge, understanding, unknowing: prose poems
A book excerpt from the spiritandflesh.com religion and spirituality online library.
What is it you seek anyway? To hold a truth within you? But perhaps the only truth is the uncomfortable emptiness which lies so irrefutably inside of you. And if poor you should choose to fill that honest vacancy, then your only truth will not be true, and, instead of being empty, you will be full of lies.
The understanding that you rest in is not yours; you do not know, you are known. A light is cast upon you and you claim to be not in darkness. But you are in darkness, the light has merely joined you there.
Every judgment you pass concretizes the false understanding you have of yourself, and binds you further into this tragic affair. You think to sever the mind, but with what? The knife would not fit the sheath, so you kept the sheath; you threw away the knife.
You want to lose what you have, you want to gain what you do not have. You imagine yourself as if trading what you have for what you want. But really you have nothing except want. And you are no match for the universe's skilled indifference. You try your best to haggle, but in the end you beg.
If you were a squirrel begging for stale peanuts in a city park, God would be a retired old curmudgeon with droopy jeans, who frequently smelled of whiskey, and was, on occasion, oblivious.
You have sought for a person of knowledge your whole life, forsaking everything without exclusion: family, friends, health, and comfort. Your search has been exhaustive and all-consuming, but without fruition, until finally you learn the whereabouts of a true sage, and set off on your last, desperate journey.
Having extended yourself beyond your limit, you finally arrive at your destination, and with your weak heart throbbing, you enter the hidden hermitage.
Misery! There is no one to be found. You are distraught. And in the time it takes you to collapse under the stress of failure, another seeker, following the same arduous route as yourself, arrives to find you dying.
As he looks sorrowfully into your eyes you utter defeatedly "It doesn't make any sense."
Now, given all of this: given that this other person has also lost all that you have lost in the seeking, has also come the same distance and followed the same path as you, perhaps also knows only what you yourself know, and has also desired to find the same sage as you had sought, so as to right it all- does it matter that, as you resignedly exhale your final capitulative breath, you can hear the other person ecstatically declaring to you, "Master, I have found you, and your wisdom!"?
(excerpted from THE DREAM OF BEING: aphorisms, ideograms, and aislings, by Jack Haas)
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