Preferences, Propensities, Proclivities
It's impossibly complex,
This dance of formlessness in form;
Full of contradictions that are simply impossible,
And yet… so.
The Beloved abides in my Heart,
Whether this body sits in a grey cubicle,
Or stands in awe on a glorious beach.
She neither increases nor diminishes
In either place,
For Her Radiance is beyond conditionality.
To speak dualistically,
She lives in the so-called "inner" world,
Concurrent with the so-called "outer".
How do both exist at once, seamlessly?
I've no idea,
No mind for such complexities.
While Fullness and Completion reign, “inwardly”,
Preferences, propensities, and proclivities continue
I prefer lofty clouds, soft sand,
And the vastness of the beach,
To the drab, grey cubicle.
But the Beloved...
Knows nothing of these differences.
She rests, untouched, in my Heart,
In Her Secret Garden where Inner and outer,
Have never, ever existed.
In that Inner Realm, there is no need,
To move from here, to there,
To do this, or not do that.
I and the world arise…
Within and As
Here in the world of space and time…
I prefer this to that.