You Can’t Take It With You

tibet-temple

all your mantras, devotions and incantations
the microscopic elaborations of your mandalas,
relentlessly climbing along the arduous path,
mistaking pointing fingers for the moon itself,
reaching beyond the barbed confines of the familiar
to construct your personal monastery of achievement

none of this will come with you at the
instant of your final dawn
you will not live in the cause or effect of
every breath or in the irresistible seduction
of sublime or terrifying sensation

suddenly you will be released from the reptilian
brain anchoring you in the forest of swords where
a false move draws blood and you cannot get enough

on that day from the ashes of intellect all is
resolved, no questions of where you are or who you
thought you were or the miles you traveled in every step

you will forgive yourself for believing in the
secure hand holds of self-worship, for the madness
of plodding upon darkened steps on the way to
the self you could not extinguish

action and non-action will be the same in
the shimmer of the collapsing dream
there will be no here and no witness
and no one to record your immaterial achievements
or non-achievements–because neither will exist

there will be no event to record and you
will not recall why you thought it so important
to sit still for now you know that you did not get
here by sitting still nor did you not get here
by not doing so

it will be time for the heart to speak the
language of union, to become the nameless
self, the unadorned self of all names and to
make the unutterable its limitless domain

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