There ain’t no burning bush,
no beckoning pillar of fire,
There ain’t no mighty hand,
to save us from our own mire.
No voice comes out of the rocks,
to tell us what to do.
The choice is always our own.
We make our doom, we make our ruin.
There is so much we don’t know.
Life is scary with death the final blow.
Who can blame those with an imaginary friend
to help them through to the bitter end?
If reality is only in the mind
Can I dismiss what others find?
The yardstick it would seem to me
Consists only of utility.
The negativity and cynicism, is due to incomplete experience. There is only one central experience that permanently erases the ignorance from those aspiring for awakening. When that experience is known to all then there is automatic unity.