Poetry

[isis]

everything is sacrosanct


sacrosanct trepidation weighs on me
and then i, once again, doubt i am free.
could everything be something i have willed?
reluctantly, i think what's killed i killed.
one being, in existence, is NOT Good
so i doubt there's just one more than i should.
any day now, i think the truth will stick:
no battle is one that i did not pick.
continually, i fear there's two here --
that evil can make the Good disappear.


"...we suffer the illusion that time is something real. Time is not real, Govinda. I have realized this repeatedly. And if time is not real, then the dividing line between this world and eternity, between suffering and bliss, between good and evil, is also an illusion...The sinner is not on the way to a Buddha-like state; he is not evolving, although our thinking cannot conceive things otherwise. No, the potential Buddha already exists in the sinner; his future is already there. The potential hidden Buddha must be recognized in him, in you, in everybody. The world, Govinda, is not imperfect or slowly evolving along a long path to perfection. No, it is perfect at every moment; every sin already carries grace within it, all small children are potential old men, all sucklings have death within them, all dying people -- eternal life...During deep meditation it is possible to dispel time, to see simultaneously all the past, present and future, and then everything is good, everything is perfect, everything is Brahman. Therefore, it seems to me that everything that exists is good -- death as well as life, sin as well as holiness, wisdom as well as folly. Everything is necessary,..." ~from Siddhartha, by Hermann Hesse