Experiments: Drifting

So many times
I get lost in speculation,
Engrossed and involved,
Bewildered and frustrated

And then finally
I grow tired of it
And the mind falls silent
For an interval

Or I forget
All about it
And move on
To some chore I need to do

But before long
I’m off again
In some delicious, delightful
Or grueling exploration,

Some flight of fancy
Or existential investigation,
A little lightheartedness
Or a load of weighty consideration,

Like a cloud
Drifting across the sky,
Reshaping itself
To fit the terrain,

Dropping rain
As it streams over mountains,
Shrinking as it passes
Across the shimmering desert,

Expanding rapidly
When it drinks in evaporating moisture,
As it’s blown over
Sparkling waters.

Experientially: In Here

The nature of
My delusion is
That
There is

Something
Out there
That’s not
In here,

This Fibromyalgia pain
And the countless woes
That go with it,
Make me want to flee!

To get out of here;
But there’s really
No place else
To go;

And how to
Get this straight
Seems to be
My endless endeavour,

How to see that
Out there
Is no different
From in here

And that indeed,
Such expressions as
“Out there” and “in here,”
Are meaningless,

Such is the nature of
The difficult task
In which
I am daily engaged.

Experiential: Neither and Both

And so,
What of suffering?
From here it seems
Unavoidable,

For without it,
There would be
Nothing at all,
And what good would that be?

Plenty of good perhaps,
If one is sick to death
Of existence
And wants to end it all together,

Which is very reasonable
Under some conditions
And perhaps the inevitable outcome
Of having lived too long and seen too much

But in the meantime,
We partake of both,
To the extent
That our conditions allow or mandate;

And it is to be remembered
That we too
Are the conditions
Under which mandate or allowance we exist,

For however long
That existence persists
And perhaps
For however long

Whatever comes after,
Persists or desists,
Whatever
The case may be.