Advaita Breathing

Start small. I exist. Something knows it. Right here, right now there is a slice of existence creating its own unrepeatable chorus, background, captions. Back against the chair - just pressure. Shoulders tense - a sensation. A thought appears about getting it right, but nothing captures it and it fades away. This knowing of existence is constantly beset by a changing landscape - sounds, sights, rendering absolute certainties only a trick of the mind.

A worry shows up, and unlike yesterday, is summarily dismissed. What remains .. a tiny wake. New images, new, new, fresh. Never repeated for anyone despite old themes, probabilities and worn out sound tracks. Find the only constant, the wondrous noticing. Add water, earth, wind, fire, everyday repeated, but never etched, never remembered the same way, never captured. Spontaneous every moment though remembered as fixed. Marvelous attendance!

Poured Away

In the I of the day's carousel there is a calm center. 
Is it life rushing by or standing still and racing madly past?
The scenes are gone before fully breathed.
Gone absolutely, and only a wisp of memory in its wake.
Dance with the memory and forgetting who and what you are.
So real this fairytale, that some cannot be saved.
Give up and realize you are spellbound, and free.
When the lights come on, there in the auditorium are you as You, am I as You.
Nothing is lost.
In the end it was only electrons moving your way.
Sad, but sweet too, that all your brilliance, creativity, savvy and longing, were
Poured into the fissures of the ground of life.
Gone too are the selfish, inept, striving and wanting to succeed.
All is trickled down ruthlessly, even the loveliness of your best self.
You cannot complete yourself at any cost.
The closer you look at anything, the more there is to see. Ad infinitum.
Escher knew.
None, survives the fire of life.
Savor the sweetness of the remainder.