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The World is Disappearing

The world is disappearing, lost in mania of men,

echoes of death resound through centuries end,

antiquated into oblivion,

surrendered with tragedy’s grin.

Cast from Bliss we fell from Being,

into spheres of Life and Death of Seeing,

forever resolved to desist divide,

to swim as one and become the ride.

Yet this divine repeal is denied by none

other than ourselves trying to dissolve the lie.

The attempt to find is to neglect the Truth.

What’s sacred is that which keeps untold,

forever unfelt unknown unless we fold.

Removed from the sirens of Song,

tone-deaf to the flux of meaning undrawn.

Having yielded reduced to the known domain,

man crowned himself as master and sane.

The reflective fish might possess a theory…

of All that was and ever will be,

swimming as governor over that which is seen,

drowned in water though afloat the known.

Nothing of form survives eternally,

for what moves the World is not the constant.

What generates our hearts is the lawless reign of change,

the professed wise know this not, the wisest are infants.

I no longer desire eternal life,

I’ve realized I am the Eternal itself,

transcended by the elixir of formless unity,

in harmony, I swing in peace to that ring which passeth understanding.


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I am nothing more than a passing ghost through the dream you call life.


“The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,

Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,

Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.”

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