There’s a middle-aged mother who’s said to be frisky
She knows that the quest for true wisdom is risky
But rather than scripture
She holds an elixir
A cocktail of hormones and breast milk and whiskey

In stillness the senses grow pleasant
With inner abundance no peasant
The coin of the realm
He receives from the elm
And spends every ounce in the present

Like an onion whose layers have lifted
The Self with sharp vision and gifted
Is shedding its skin
To expose what’s within
It’s consciousness pure and unscripted

It’s a doggie dog world so watch where you step
Foot in mouth syndrome is spreading like strep
But a house of prevention is worth more than liqueur
Have a spoon full, a mind full, are you feeling demure?  

Inside effects may include outlaws of vision
But don’t freeze your auntie, make a thawed out decision
Keep on pugging, plugging a way
You will fly like a beagle, as every doc has his day

While thyme keeps on dripping into the tincture
And limericks rhyme everything, except the kitchen sphincter
Now refill your subscription and do as I say
Because a Hornaday keeps the doctor away

And give us this tray, our daily meds
While terrier-ism threatens to Smirnoff our heads
It’s a mystery wrapped in poodle, but misery loves coventry
And it takes a heckuva lot, to go parking up a wrong tree

Just another Shih-Tzu day, making trouble in paradise
Ain’t nothing but a ground hog, gone skating on the nice
Though I wouldn’t herd a fly, or let a wafer stray
Don’t doubt the Roman knows my aroma was built in a day

When ego gets hold of your mind
Then the notion of self is confined
To a tight narrow cell
And forgotten how well
Every sentient thing is entwined

The progress is slow but perpetual
Impassioned as well as habitual
Avoid second guessing
To honor the blessing
And live every day like a ritual

Regardless of what one believes
The universe waxes and breathes
While ebbing and flowing
And always unknowing
The Tao, without purpose, achieves