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May 2013
When my muse eludes,
I pick up my Guitar;
and when that fails,
I seek the (albeit sometimes symbolic) Pen.

When that as well fails to impress the Divine within me,
I regress to something much, much closer to home;

I Meditate.

Neither speaking to nor being spoken to by the Divine;
Asking not and seeking no Answers;
trying to be content with this.

Just Meditate.

Do not stare it in the Eyes
for it is the Void itself;
the Mystery itself;


Look into the Pond in which you're standing
and try standing still enough long enough
to let the ripples and sediment settle;
to be able to see thy Reflection;
Such is Mind:


Realize that you are a Fractal of Manifestation;
a pattern begot of patterns upon patterns upon patters
throughout time upon time upon time;
symmetrical in a parabolic sense, perhaps even circular;
Birth, life, death, (etc.?).

The all-encompassing Chord:

begot of the One;
relatively horizonless,
each point sees itself as Center;
when really there is no Center,
except the Center
in time;
Anubis the Philosomancer
Written by
Anubis the Philosomancer  27/We're all a bit mad here.
(27/We're all a bit mad here.)   
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