nothing comes out of nothing
for all things has its causes
arising as effects
manifested as experience
we call the NOW

the Now
merely a brief moment
yet constantly another now takes over
so seamlessly as if permanency is real
and experiences unbroken
yet behind it all
at all times
a mystery unknown
churning, accumulating
causes
that brings to us
a world of experience
of what we feel
be it from touch, see, smell, hear, or taste
not to mention
thoughts that keeps popping up in our minds

we see not what we are unknowingly creating
of intentions brief arising continuously
of which causes are created
leading out as experiences
that we hold onto so dearly
unbeknownst
what is more true
is our intent

and here barking at the wrong tree
all the time
we chase after the world
thinking it is “there”
that happiness is found
or running away from the world
thinking too it is “there”
unhappiness is found
yet
the real world is so near
yet so far
found within the mind

the creator of the world
“out there”

who to blame
what to blame
where to start
where to end
except the mind
the end of existence seen.

Ahh…
am I… dreaming you
or you… dreaming me
or I … dreaming I
or “I” merely a dream?
of Dream dreams
like Perception perceives
or Consciousness conscious
or Feeling feels
of neither “you” nor “I”
except a conspiracy of a seeming split
seen from a strange angle
of separation that never occurred
like front and back of one thing
and yet seems to be two
a device unexplainable
brought you and me
as two separates
where I love you
or you love me
or I despise you
and you despise me
a weird scenario
where there
never was
never once
or even one moment
where separation was even possible
except again
seen from a strange angle
where distortion becomes real
where cause begins
and thus effect comes to play

where beginning has an end
and end, beginning too
and thus with birth, death exist
and with death, rebirth again
all from the mystery of a seeming split
never was, never occurred
never never possible
and yet, and yet….
how can it be?

what is this
what is going on
what is here
what never was
yet I am here
questioning
and you reading
and
See sees
Smell smells
Taste tastes
Hear hears
Touch touches
Think thinks
impersonal
selfless
devoid of entity
a dance of sort
of cosmic play
not understood and not realized
hence separation prevails
inside outside
above below
vertical horizontal
near far
all but an illusion
of time
brought about
from one
moment of void
from emptiness
to form
and form
back to emptiness
coming
going
yet nothing truly occurred.
Maya at play…

oh dear
the demon came a knocking again
the other day
immersing totally
you forgot it was another replay

a rehearsal of sort
that you have taken for real
and hence the ride was pretty scary
daunting and peril

soon you will wake up to realize
shucks! another unreal dream
of embarrassment that repeats once again
beating yourself up why it has to repeat

but wait a minute
if you have done it so many a times
how could it be that you are framed again?
or is it that a point is missed that
ravelling the mystery
a deceit is found?

what deceit, you exclaimed
is it you or really me that is at fault?
neither both, deary soul
for it is not about a personality I am referring
except nature of conditioning replaying again

unless wisdom comes a yonder
ignorance simply play its game
and you can’t say it is either wrong or bad
as what ignorance does is simply this
doing its nature what ignorance is!

so lo and behold
soon another day shall passed
awakened from the dream
you wonder why it happened

and the answer is simply already here
not that you are not entitled to you
but rather blocks that you have not known
is keeping you abay

if you do not know
your search
is what that search
whatever directions you take
will end in futility
as the search has never been at all out there
except here in the now
in this “thing” called the Mind.

I was a rabbit
And you were a tortoise
Both in competition
In that lifetime.

Then I was a tortoise
Of another lifetime
And you… sigh, a hare
Coming back to compete
What was not completed.

And it has been going on that way
Since immemorial time
Of different characters
And different storylines.

And what was behind it all
Was about a point to prove
That I am good for you
In the midst of my not good enough.

I have not welcomed you lovingly
But instead challenge you a feud
Of past blindness I did not see
Of inner needs that is always mine.

And as I wakeup this lifetime
Of dreams we have both locked into
And pains that kept us bind yet and apart
I release thee from my mental bondage.

Returning to whole of what was not
Ending all what was perceived incomplete
I embrace you in fullest love
Praying that we are now both One.

In delusive competition
All comes to immediate end
Of separation that never once was
Except an illusion of a nightmarish dream.

And now with joy
With wakefulness and grace
I see you
And I see you, Love, again.

Don’t go back to sleep.
Wake up.
Wake up to what truly is.

It is an exciting time for awakening
where realization comes easily
where past and future has no actual meanings
other than mere storyline arising in the Now.
as each story continues with a sequel

Storylines upon storylines
stacking up the Now
making what in origin eternity
now a glamor story of beginning and end
yet the end is still not truly ended
whence then can there be a real end?

Continuation is not eternity
as it has past to determine it
and future meanings to hold it tight.
thus beginning and end is but an illusion
played up by perception of memory flood
making each story a juicy fluid
and each experience a meaningful dream
of which there are times nightmare too.

Yet meaning or no meaning are still “meanings”
locked within the time bubble of falseness
away, totally forgotten, the “meaninglessness”
meaninglessness to you portray doom and helplessness
Yet that is not what it means
Except a meaning put by you.

Consider a time—if ever “time” does ever exist
No one object has a meaning
Until an idea of a meaning springs into mind
Now no longer a object but simply meaning
Even that what is “an object”?
Except another meaning to That?
What then is “That”?

“That” is “What” – do you not see how meaning work?

Thus shut-up, keep still
Be silence and stop all doing
Only then what is beyond “meaning” emerges
Unfolding for you to realize
What true meaninglessness is –

“Meaningful”!

step back
step back further
yet please step back a little further more
for each step back is never enough
never enough to step back
never enough to further step back
never enough to reach the end line, or the beginning line
where the line is imaginary

for only when you finally arrived
emptied totally
forsaken the self
ending and leaving behind all baggages
your step back is finally done

indeed difficult is to empty
to drop every incessant interference
to let loose what is held
to fall as to surrender
to end all grips
of tenacious rightness
of egoic imagination
of self-centredness
“I”

what a bliss
what a joy
of no-I-ness
of
Beyond

it is ridiculous, it is silly,
it is unimaginable
not to mention strange
in not seeing what is already here
to realize and to end
what perpetuates so so long a ago

how can it be possible
how strange it can be
where what is already here is not seen
and what is not here imagined
a total baffling encounter
even the Masters will laugh uncontrollable

to laugh is to see its reality
to sigh is to see unreal real
to plea is plain ignorant
to hope, forget about it
either one sees it or one don’t

so here ends the chapter
no more what’s next
for to ask that is to seek continuity
what an illusion!
there being none except Eternal Unconditioned
yet not eternal as in process

end blindness
just wake up
wake up to realize
blind is here, blind is there
blind is everywhere
and Love is all that sees
in Wisdom dawn

it’s the mind!
it’s the mind!
it’s the mind!

it’s the mind!
(do you not noticed the obvious?)

the me mind, the you mind
but never my mind or your mind
have you not noticed – simply “mind”?

there’s only mind nature unfolding
in me space, and, you space
as opportunity for experience,
as happening experienced at each moment
and never even once, never,
“my” mind or “your” mind
but simply, “mind”
as happening.

there was only happening
there is only happening
there will forever be only happening

yet of them all
there is only happening
as past or future is happening here now
as present thoughts
mangled in imagination

what is more to say
except happening
happening
happening
and still, and yet
another happening
to each moment?

happening is experience
and experience is what you are
and what you are
is simply…
“happening”
not “your” happening
or “my” happening
but simply “happening”
arising, passing on
happening [again]

yet is there “again”?
or simply new, fresh… gone
anew …
from nowhere to nowhere

to be exact…

now here … no where

Do I not notice
death is but another experience
like an experience arising any other day
that I sometimes dread
yet finally will still overcome
and come to term
and continue living?

Death is not the end
except another experience
where I too will finally overcome
and continue living
wherever I am been posted
never an end

It’s not death that I dread
or the meaning of ending that I abhor
rather the assumed perception
of another’s death
never returning
thus keeping me resisting
of what I have built
of what I have accumulated
of what I have held on
of what I have toiled
not willing to depart
not willing to end
thus seeing death a threat
death an imposed fear
robbing me what I so wanted
to cherish, to enjoy

yet funnily
not willing to depart is an experience
not willing to end is an experience too
wanting to cherish, to enjoy, yet another experience
not to mention
accumulating
holding on
toil
resisting
whatever I can fill in the gaps
aren’t they all experiences?

Where is there then hierarchy?
Where is there then specialness?
Where is there then preference?
Even if there is, isn’t those all experience too?

If that is all it is
in this so-called human life
why not death another experience?
even though I may not like it
yet not liking too is another experience!

where can I run, except another experience
where can I go, except another experience
where can I escape
Escape? Another experience!

But if escape is what I wish
Isn’t Death an escape
of what I am now?
Am I choosing to escape Death
but not escaping from what I am?
Do I think I have a choice
Yes! only if I am insane! 

I am escaping from escape?
What a confusion!
Pray tell me, what is it that I want?
Or is it want that I just need to wake up from?

moments can be simply simple
if there are no meanings attached to it
for then what is is just as it is
devoid of
meanings of if or should
or even must.

yet that cannot be the case
as meanings make up my entire mind
make up my reality
make up my experiences
make up who I am
without which
experiences cease to be
not to mention death of I-dentity

and that comes back to truth
that so long I-dentity is still felt
I can be sure it is a construct of meanings
of ancient ideas and views
mutated over unimaginable times
solidifying the falseness
of a meaning that
I do exist
except but just a meaning

“I” the mother of delusion
giving further many more I to come
seamlessly to each moment
making what is but a process
now a permanent meaning
unrealized I am but simply
meanings over meanings

thus notice meanings as meanings,
meaningless on its own
not a reality
except an imposed identification over what is
notice its nature
notice its powerlessness
until power given to it
notice exactly as it is
without wrongness
else another meaning sprung from it

noticing,
awake
fully awake
to its nature

… beyond meanings!

What makes me think I am here?
Or am I feeling I am here
Or I know I am here?

But I begin to notice
think, feel and know
are but functions of the mind
pointing
inferring
I AM here
Yet am I really, really here
without being pointed, being inferred?
Arrghh…

Could it be the mind’s conjuring
an illusionist of sort
making me dream I am here?
Living here now
as I am typing it out for you to read?

But wait a minute,
Who is talking here?
is it not the mind again that is all to this moment
only
expressing itself in words
yet still the mind as a forerunner?
Arrghh…

And you, yes, you,
who else!
Reading my mind
now encrypted in words and sentences
trying to decipher
what is now in your mind
of what was seen
read and possibly, comprehend?
Arrghh…

Are you reading?
or is the mind doing its job?
of all its lingual ideas
of concepts already in existence
trying to grasp,
trying to understand
what is now stuck in its own
the mind?
Arrghh…

Mind meeting mind
transferring ideas to and fro
I and you a part of it
not apart of it
not depart from it
or separate from it
immersed in its function

of ancient stuff
replayed over again.
Am I living
or seemingly living?
made believe by the mind?
Arrghh…

What if I were to leave
all these silly living
and find out what is really going on
…here?
Yet, sigh, who is talking these
or thinking these?
The mind again?
Arrghh…

What a damn, yet sweet revelation!

NOW is the treasure trove of inquiries
Of unfound beauty hidden beneath the facade of seeking
When one brings forth inquiries
of Now what is not known
what is hidden, comes forth a surprise.

So let each inquiry always be for the now
Instead of from the now
inquiry to probe instead of to challenge
inquiry to realize instead of to instil
inquiry that opens up the heart
instead of reinforcing
inquiry not to seek an answer
but to let the answer finds you.

Within each inquiry an answer awaits, lovingly
For when there is no inquiry whence is there answer?
let the inquiry be wise
as to unfold the wisdom of answers
let the inquiry be opened
as to unfold unlimited potentials
let the inquiry be
for the sake of love
instead of fear

for when the step is rightly taken
what is not seen will be seen
what is seen will be made known
and what is made known
will be triumphed
and what is triumphed
will be gloried upon all

so let you not seek
but to see.

I see you.

Here begins the journey of delusion
Where seeing is no longer a vision
And instead pursuit is now the mission

Desire spreads in full steam operation
Upsets too frequent with no remission
Both arriving in constant successions

Seeking beauty is its main contention
Desiring happiness too its full intention
No moment given to clear comprehension

Resisting suffering is also its function
Unaccepting of nature in all out aversion
Reflecting wisely is out of question

Desiring and resistance both in tension
Yet both discomforts never were mentioned
Though both works in great aggression

Grasping life is its constant passion
Detesting death also its daily fashion
Both a pull push battle of creation

Never once were you free to raise objection
Of your life but a constant dejection
Infested in these menace of petition

Where love is but awaiting rejection
And fear is but a welcoming projection
Both not opposites except a guilt station

When hunger strikes peace becomes a fiction
With overeating sloth, torpor and even indigestion
Ignoring both is but a fight of friction

Restlessness joins the rank of irritation
With worries its comrade of apprehension
Universal indeed in all species’ generation

Sloth and laziness a guilt manifestation
Where not careful a prehistoric skeleton
Left behind in a lurge of assimilation

Contentment was never an invitation
Taking advantage the unseen deviation
A secret all done in sly manipulation

Even in retreat is not spared regulations
Artificial setting to false jubilations
Advocate silence a forced adoration

Over and over these play of variations
Yet seen correctly but just an apparition
Until then indeed a full steam delusion

a birthday
a celebration of absurdness
of memory unbearable to bring
buried, forgotten,
in deep sea of consciousness
where scene of comfort turns nightmarish
of unknown force appearing
of unfamiliar discomfort arising
of never before pushing experienced
of pain never before felt
in the tunnel of contraction
meeting delicateness
to a doorway unimaginably small

the giver of life struggling on her own
the receiver end in territory unknown
of meeting each comes in contact
yet unmet, unconscious of each
as one faced the discomfort of process

ho behold!
meaning of world comes to be
a stark reality never can imagined
of such contrast where it origined

vulnerable
naked off comfort
the world is met
of worthiness of struggle
awaits the end
ideas foreign consciousness absorb
I-ness of identity gradually comes to be
concepts of objects now familiar
an untold story then onwards.

and thus birthday is what it is
an added year reinstating identity
of imaginary separation seems to be
of hardship and joy transiency
in trivialness to each its own play
in facing the dance of music internally
yet within, consciousness dwells
only to experience its own over again
till life meets its death
and death to arise birth again

yet… beyond it all nothing really happened
nothing left, nothing gone
nothing born, nothing dies
a myriad only to be awakened
reinstate where One belong.

Nothing hidden in the mind
Nothing awaiting in the background
Nothing wasted unarisen
Nothing lost, arisen or otherwise
Except a sequential process of order
Of conditionings maturing
Bringing about arising
Of what need arise
Of which in return
Conditions the next arising
A process of nature
Coming and going
On its own accord
Without you, or me in it
Except on autorun

Neither is it good nor bad
Right nor wrong
Should nor should not
Except delusional meanings given to it

Arising as it should
Unavoidable,
Inescapable,
Irreversible,
With its arising
Conditioning another
The old passing with new taking effect
As always
Appearing another new moment
Seemingly seamless,
Unbreakable, permanent
Yet within each moment dying and arising

Never was life fatalistic
Nor life nihilistic
For so long conditions abound
Existence continues to arise
Reborn over and yet again
Within and without
Of incomprehensible meetings
Of unimaginable experiences
Of unpredictable consequences
All of which we call, Life.