The Magic Sky

The magic sky rests in comfort
The folds in those mountains
Your mind trying to grasp itself

Certain beings know their function
Others realize the nonsense
Inherent in literalism and grasping

The long view sees freedom in release
Sees non-penetration nothing to be penetrated
Sees the folds as waves of energetic becoming

Breathing in and out the magic sky
Becoming defenseless and at peace
Accepting the offering made here and now

Most of us just poor paupers
On the high road of redemption
Never asking and never receiving

The grass grows for as long as human
Memory holds and beyond that into
Nothingness

Those folds bathed in darkness
Slumbering deep in mystery beneath stars
Equanimity of now knows no boundaries

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