self serious baloney

Whom do you serve?
In what do you believe?
What end draws you?
Where does your heart dwell?

I am losing it, I fear it shall soon be gone from me
My first estate, that innocent trust,
The joyful exuberance of felt and known immediacy of Love
That infinite embrace that whispers all good things.

I fear to go where bad things roam,
Where uneasy thoughts arise, and unacceptable things
Take form, intruding ghosts
With bones to pick and haunted, hungry eyes, never sated but at the sight
Of fresh, untainted meat to ravage and subdue.

My body betrays me, my blood runs to poison.
Old age and uselessness, my fate, the thought disgusts me.
Self-suspicion arrives in time
To walk me into the arms of hate.

These are thoughts, mere idle fantasy
To titillate an easily straying mind.
What morbid fascination draws me there?
None, but streamers slip the way
And I am powerless to deny them.

Must we then walkl the road of desolation
To give ourselves a reason to seek sweet togetherness?
The pendulum...
Can we be free of it?

What surpassing sage of totality
Can meet it all with equanimity?
Where does fearless wisdom reside?
In stillness, says the stillness
By whose grace is birthed abundance and whose shadow is the abyss.

Is the shadow real?
I think it might just be imaginary,
A mathematical abstraction, like the square root of a negative
(Ironically dubbed i),
Given potency and substance by fixation and belief.

Some nagging belief structure, past its prime
Implores me to think of the risk involved
In the intoxication of the sweetness of the presence
And abandoning myself for my heart's desire.
Won't I set me up for a fall, just another tripped-up fool?

But I know this itself is a trick,
The bait-and-switch strawman rebuttal
Of something that was never at issue.
The same voice speaks:
As ever, the isolated i
Of abstraction, the one being whipped about
By forces beyond its ken,
Which, reaching, pushes away
And fleeing, finds more coming round again.
Merely envious, thinking it can never partake
Of the manna of heaven,
Forced to scorn and scoff in defense
And keep attention focused on its dead creations instead.

I AM THAT.
Let the abstraction be.
Brooding begets brooding, let it be.
Control is illusion, let it be.
Here, see this.
Here, feel that.
Be with it, surrender doing
To the torrential power of now.
Trust yourself and go with the flow.
Love beyond all concepts of love is always on the line,
Giving itself to every atom and every cubic femtometer of space.
Know this and relax into the unknowable mystery.
You are the reason you are here.
Every moment is a grace gift.
Enjoy it, embrace it,
Give your all to it,
Fall in Love with it,
And that self-serious baloney will be just another trip, over before you know it.
Thank God!