All will be lost to dust in time.
Even my music,
Even my music will one day be forgotten.
I create and will continue to create
As any true artist would,
But I will abandon my creations
With a noble heart and poignant mind
So that they may take on a life of their own.
I will not form attachments.
Like the Buddhist monks and their mandalas
Made of colored sands,
I will allow my works to be transformed
By the flowing river,
To be deposited on distant shores
Or to be destroyed outright.
When one gives of himself,
When one truly sacrifices,
There is a reward to be had.
Something Lesser
For something Greater.

Oh Gods on high,
I’ve heard thy musings.
As you are above,
So am I below.
But why am I below?
And who hast placed thee on high
Aside from my perceptive imagination?
Your adorned fire illuminates all of element and void.
The Mystery is laid bare before thine eyes
While my dull and hard ember
Barely reveals what is inches before me.
Of what heinous crime have I been indicted
To deserve such a life of ignorance?
Reveal to me the exact pomegranate of which I ate
And I will prove to you
That I can master the Art of Evolution.
Tear from me these vestments of corporeality.
Free me from this prison of time and matter
For I wish to join thy ranks
Of illumined Consciousness,
To see all there is and Beyond,
To be all there is and Beyond.

I am but a piece of mySelf,
A fraction of my whole soul,
The One Soul.
My mind has been divided into countless fragments,
Isolated perceptions seeking to be reconnected,
Floundering so alone in the vacuum of infinity.

And if you are truly above
As I am below,
Then you must share in my suffering
And I am reassured
That my pleas fall not on deaf ears
But on open hearts and whetted appetites
Eager for my ascension into utmost Awareness,
My triumphant return Home.
But if Thy Spirit is indifferent,
If Thou hast turned Thy back toward me,
Or if Thee truly do not exist,
Then may there be a swift end
To this ceaseless and pointless dance of atoms
For I would rather have no experience
Than to play games in the Grand Mistake of Creation.
But this is the resentment of a frustrated child,
One who feels abandoned.
Make known to me Your power and presence
And I will live a humble and devoted life
Or You will lose another exiled child
To the Annals of Hell.
If I am the Devil, then the Devil I will remain
And wage war eternal against Thy Throne.
But if I am truly Thy Son,
If I am truly Thee,
Give me an unmistakable clue
So I may wake from this nightmare
I have built from earth, water, fire, and air.

Oh Gods on high,
Why have I done this to mySelf?
Why have I caged my mind
Only to seek what was already known?
Why have I made this Labyrinth
So nearly impossible to navigate?
How might I lift the Veil from Isis’ face
To gaze into mine own eyes
So that All is known
And All is at peace?

The intonation and vibration of these steel strings
Resonates through my lungs making it easier to breathe,
Resonates through my blood so I can see the unseen.
All I have are these songs of sweet melody,
Of clamoring hardship,
Of cold steel tearing open my heart
With terrible and beautiful violence,
Of warm lips pressing against my ear
Singing me to sleep,
Of beats that drop like bombs in an empty desert,
And of cool water that flows over my feet
Resting these two weary wanderers so tired of the gravity
That wrests them to the coarse earth.
More beautiful than the notes and words,
The space between,
The vacuum of silence
Where one can digest what has been heard,
The freedom of silence
And the restfulness of infinity in one single moment.
The stillness between the movements is where I yearn to be,
But I must create the movements for this stillness to be reached.
The composition evolves from dissonant to harmonious,
From chaotic to orderly,
From nothing to nothing with everything in between.
The spine splitting wars of notes out of tune
Are corrected by the Wise Composer;
Not a single chord contains a weak link
When the Work is perfected.
All I have is this music.
All I need is this music.