Weaves of Presence

Filed under Poetry

Memories are distant entanglements
The presence of which
Ruin away to dust
Some stay
Happily in our hearts
Such memories are never ‘Past’
But always present to us
But not presented in a ‘present’
Because there is no such thing as ‘past’
Not even disguised as ‘present’
But only what is


Dreams and hopes
Though wished for
Always only occupy us
When we chose
Letting them float free before us
Because there is no such thing as ‘future’
But only what is


To think of time as if to say
We exist within something flowing away
With or without us
Is to imagine an inside
Without an outside
An impossibility
Because there is none such
Neither stream outside
Nor one inside
Only tangles
Weaves of infinite needles of attention
Through an ocean of Awareness
Limitless because unbounded by any shore
Purely free from any ‘once was’ or ‘may be’
But only what is


To see this clearly is to shed our blindness
Because only presence is present
Why then pin our hopes on a dream
Or our pains and fears on a ruin
Through a fog of conceptual blindness
That we allow to be present
When we can bask in the brilliant light
The clear unmovable still light
And the pure presence of our own attention
As it weaves through Awareness
The only ‘what is’

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