As she lifts her nose from her notes
I wonder down which stream she floats.

Does she fancy pastel summer sunsets
whose calmly colored clouds conceal
a simple lapis blue beyond?

Does she set her sights further, forever far away --
are there glimmering galaxies gushing light and gravitation
while solar systems spin and dance in divine inebriation?

Perhaps her discretion is more discerning
and towards all minutiae her mind is turning.
Are cells pulsing gradients, chemically communicating
with energetic electric magic undulating?

Maybe those electrons evoke enticing excitations
and her shining silhouette's mere photonic  emanations.
Atoms flicker, fidgeting 'tween fleeting forces:
Protons, quarks, gluons, and other shifting sources.

Ah, but, now I find myself gently pondering:
because I know exactly where she is
I've no idea where she's wandering! (To an arbitrary precision.)

In the beginning, nothing to know or behold.
Ignorant to all forms, to all words being told.
I exist, I exist! I'm not everything else.
Throughout eternity, I'll have only myself.

I'll apply energy to create new conditions,
and cause ripples and waves with distraught intentions.
From a "this," another "that"
and the polar play will distract.

From the two, another, awareness of faculties.
Nose to smell, tongue to taste, eyes to see.
Ear to hear, skin to feel, and mind to think.
Consciousness with an ego standing on the brink.

From the conscious fields, the earth starts to rise.
Water flows through being; fire keeps it alive.
Wind, vital wind, blows great energy around.
I think I'll call myself "ME." Yes, it has a certain sound.

From the elements, my corporeal form starts to dance.
With various appendages to keeping me entranced.
Eyes, ears, nose, tongue, my body and my mind.
Oh-**! Who knows what secrets I may find?

Ah, at last, the external world and I contact!
Who'd've thought that there'd be much in that?
Awareness and otherness meeting for a moment.
Before a strange sensation -- now I start to plummet.

I think I'm sad. There's cloth on me. I smell something astringent.
I see a bright light. Sounds all around. What tastes are contingent?
I didn't bargain for sensations that flicker up now.
I'd take it all back, if I only knew how.

A welling within! I crave food and deep loving.
Only want pleasant forms, otherwise I'll take nothing.
I want good music, beautiful things to observe.
But these forms in my mind, I think I'll conserve.

I'll repeat all sensations that are pleasant
and continue this practice and never regret it.
My Self is a thing, perpetually flowing.
I'll live forever; I'll never stop growing.

Forever happens much sooner than planned.
Every year I get older, I get sick and feel shammed.
How could this happen? I was so fit in my prime.
On my deathbed with my pleasures, I've wasted my time.

Through a strange landscape, I'm stripped of my Self.
Alone, all alone, with nowhere to turn to for help.
But there is a return to this world, once again,
to the beginning with nothing to know or behold.

What are their uses
when everyone confuses
the words I say
with the ones they think?

Hello, Mr. Man-in-Blue.
You know I've got my eye on you.
You I see looking back at me,
waiting for this man to stumble.

Well, Mr. Man-in-Blue
can you tell me what stands True?
Or could it be a mystery
with which we both will fumble?

To the psychonauts exploring
the vistas of imagination.

There is a simple question
I ask of your investigation.

Are you seeking to know
beyond bounds of limitation,

or are you using "psychonaut"
to justify inebriation?

Where did all the poets go?
I can't find them on the streets.

Where did all the lovers go?
All I see is lust and greed.

Where did all the culture go?
It didn't come with my degree.

Where did all the passion go?
It's just rote monotony.

Where did all the thinkers go?
Instead of blank redundancy.

Where did all the peacefuls go?
Did they join the milit'ry?

Oh, I don't think I'll ever know.
Where did all the virtue go?

My mind stands as a monument, patient as a mountain
with icy peak not pestered by casual considerations
'though mourning howls through the crags
of my thoughts, and an agitated earth rumbles below.
Stoically I face the persistence of time flowing slow.

I received dreams last night, visions beyond
myself and my actions.

I saw a great man, with great compassion.
He used the last of his strength to save another
from the rushing of a tidal wave.
As others lifted his body from the ground
and spoke of his noble sacrifice,
the man thought to himself:
"I must continue to burn with light
to combat the forces of oppression."

I woke then, suddenly, and my vision
filled with spiraling blue and green
diffraction patterns, rippling across the ceiling.

A deep pleasure burned through my skull
and swept down my body, accompanied
with a high-pitched ringing, tinged with fear.

I saw a great green grassland,
a deep emerald color contrasting the
lapis lazuli color in the sky.
On the horizon stood a single mound,
a deep red clay of vital earth.

May I never forget what I have seen,
and always remember:
suffering and bliss are not two.