The question one never dares to ask.
From nowhere.
But from
my better half,
Better
hollow half.
“What will you get by writing?”
The
question seemed
Originating
from inside the bone
And
touching inside the bone.
Inside
the hollowness of the whole.
The
sparrows or crows
Pecking
on the mirror
Shoot out
the same question.
Their
sheer ignorance
Makes
them poke and peck
On mirror,
against its own reflection,
As the big unanswerable question.
I
was answer-less.
****************
True,
I had no purpose .
And I do have no purpose
But being in the state of being,
Experiencing the great ecstasy of is-ness.
The great ecstasy of living and existing
In and with the whole.
Fulfill ing the purposelessness
Of the whole.
Earning and burn ing
The purposelessness of the whole.
(Continued .......)
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