WATER

Filled with atoms, elements and particles...
Not of anything new...
But a face that smiles for the first time...
The form is rare and unique...
Aye!
But only to the observer...
Using merely itself to observe itself...
It could not know of its abundance...
Formless like He of the infinite...
Never created nor destroyed...
Yet it is titled...
A vibration of words used to satisfy our illusory nature...
A form that is but a microcosm...
Of itself and all things...
A cup of it...
Half-filled with the manifest and unmanifest of itself...
It in all things...
Tis but a mere reminder of that formless one...
A pang for the ignorant that seek its taste...
It is unknowable with intelligence...
Akin to seeking love without going within...
A splash in the eyes of the jaded...
May he see that his temple is flooded...
No more will I roam with a bucket to fetch it...
The Supreme placed a waterfall in the Kingdom...
Also there, is the genie of the lamp...
But having abandoned the lamp...
The wishes are unlimited...
He does what he likes in the Kingdom...
And together we wished...
We became filled like the elephant...
And like that elephant, we gave and received strongly...
The intelligent ones stop drinking in fear of sickness...
We drank until we burst and dissolved...


doM

WASHING

Internal and external...
Eventually all become filled with filth...
It that prevents you...
It that holds you...
It that questions you...
It that doubts you...
It that needs you...
Filth...
All filth I tell you...
And although God has manifested as this filth...
He does so that you may see the purity...
Oftentimes we do not see stains clearly...
For it is not until purity is prominent...
It is not until purity is taken away...
It is not until purity is forsaken...
And upon the cloud blocking the sun...
When we no longer feel, comforted...
No longer warm...
This is when we seek the barracks...
This is when we seek the Architect...
Our abandoned Temple no longer having a door...
No longer having heat...
We crave to learn how to clean that place...
We crave to know that place...
Ridden with maggots from your own rotten flesh...
The Healer of Healers is sought...
The Builder of Builders is sought...
The Knowledge of all Knowledge is sought...
And upon awakening from amnesia...
You recognize your garden given to you pure...
Now ridden with filth...
But the river water never ran dry...
And taking refuge in the Absolute...
Body in hand...
The washing began...


doM