Eyes to the Heart.
What I see is burnt.
What I think is heard.
What I know is learnt.

Look nowhere but within, for your spiritual highs, forgiveness and sin.
The saddest truth there is, your a commodity.
You're a consumer to the holy man who put a price on his wisdom.
And the teachings of the earth are so lost
That we pay for courses in the innate.
To know what we thought we never needed. And become who we thought we'd never be.
Isn't that ironic?
We're lost.
This human being.

It seems like I'm a genius when I'm searching and finding answers so that I can figure out problems.
Also, when I'm asking questions it feels this way.
But when I'm pondering The Mystery I always feel inadequate.
When I'm trying to skim my mind for a metaphor for an unknown part of the universe, it is like my imagination has to solve for both X and Y.

Getting help with an answer can often remove any need to think.
Except the need to think about how I could remember how to solve it the next time.
Often I've unknowingly believed that there is a disjunction between common sense and reasoning because I've believed that my common sense was no help.
In reality it was just a lack of communication between common sense and reason.
Learning helps the brain communicate within itself.
It is not merely learning more, but the ability not just to see connections, but communicate them.

Learning for me must come from a need to end my ignorance rather than to further my understanding inasmuch as furthering understanding is infinite while becoming tired of my ignorance happens after a period of time after learning something new.

The universe and all it's organizing power must sing in my soul it's anthem of mystery before I can crack a book.

Some people appear in our life,
At a very precise time,
To help us close A chapter,
Opening A new one in our mind.

They will pick up our spirit,
When it has fallen down,
Then as fast as they appeared,
They are no where around.

Showing us different views,
Of how our world could be,
Which may not be our choice,
What our mind, needed to see,

We will all come to crossroads,
Confused which way to turn,
As we decide, our direction,
A part of life, live and learn.

Tom Maxwell Copyright 2009AD

A message to my former self,
In all your grief and a-g-o-n-y
That swallows you up,
You absolute stick in the mud.
Remember as time crashes,
no slashes,
no passes
you by
you are growing and shrinking in size -
not in some fluid motion,
but a movement filled with motion sickness.

The room is on fire
and you are in it.
I promise you
the room will not stop being on and
fanning while fannying about
is not helping
in the situation.  

But you can learn to
revel in its burning.
Cauterising your wounds,
so you can finally stop
licking them.

A room is not a home -
remember a room has a door and
you can leave it at will.

No one is holding you hostage.

Our bodies, as we know them now,
One day will be all alone,
Burnt to ashes, or buried, inside A coffin,
Six feet under A stone.
A known fact, most of us will never know,
In advance, how we will leave this life,
We are passing through today,
Why, so much hate, and anger,
Which is mainly supported by greed,
While knowing this life, A very short stay.
As humans, we act, talk, as the most
knowledgeable, creatures, alive today,
In reality, we have learned, from others
Almost everything, we do or say.
How we eat, dress, who we accept,
or disagree with, how we share,
or be selfish, we teach, leave behind,
As we help shape the next creatures,
After our very short stay.


                                               Tom Maxwell © 01/30/2021 AD 12:00 PM