Her old face was wrinkled and disgusting
I did not hear a word she was telling me
Because she had a crumb hanging onto her lip
Waiting to be blown onto my face

However something about her intrigued me
Like a troll that was holding a flower
There is nothing beautiful about a troll holding a flower
Nonetheless I would be interested in why he was holding it

Three days later I thought back to that wrinkled old lady
And what I saw in my mind was quite disturbing
Her face was a marbled statue
Her wrinkles, which originally signified ugliness,
Now only added character and wisdom

I could not even see the crumb of food on her lip
To this day I carry her in my mind
And will one day paint her beautiful wrinkles
On a sidewalk in heaven
While Jesus and everyone else gather around
To watch me paint

The mind thinks
But it has objects
And it cannot think properly with objects

Believe the objects are concrete
And move them away from the mind
Their removal is only temporary like light removed from day

The mind likes to wear the object of belief
It is constrained under the weight of belief
Remove belief from the mind

The mind likes to wear the object of knowledge
It is constrained under the weight of knowledge
Remove knowledge from the mind

The mind has no destination
For the mind is active
And activity is ongoing, unlike destination

When the mind is set free from its objects
It will float above to a greater altitude
And look down at its objects
And no object will influence the mind anymore

Pleasure is an imaginary friend
Skips and skates, to decorate
Time’s strange ends

Consequence detached
And I drifted away
Down waters with melodies wrapped in silk
And a part of me returned

Do not let a wild thought
Escape over its fence
This will train the multitude
To drag it back by its reigns