The universe exists because of us.
Our love for these dreamy forms
fashions and sustains it.
We can touch, stare, flow into anything
as light flows into itself at dawn, at dusk.
We can stand before the mirror and imagine
that the one who’s looking back is us.
This is the great mystery of dreaming,
a mystery play in which everyone
earnestly plays their own part.
Sometime, in a time within all timelessness,
we may awaken in the midst of dreaming
to find that there is only dreaming —
we’ve only awoken in a dream.
We’ll laugh or cry or write a poem
but nothing can explain it.
There’s nothing to explain.
Here, within this endless dreamscape,
we somehow seem to meet again and again,
approaching each other with tremendous desire,
and with our dream hands, reaching out to touch.
At such a touch, the water ripples out in circles,
distorting the image for which we reached.
We see at last there is no other —
all praise to you, Supreme!
Narcissus-admiring-his-own-reflection sm

About Bob OHearn

My name is Bob O'Hearn, and I live with my Beloved Mate, Mazie, in the foothills of the Northern California Sierra Nevada Mountains. I have a number of blog sites you may enjoy: Photo Gallery: Essays on the Conscious Process: Compiled Poetry and Prosetry: Verses and ramblings on life as it is: Verses and Variations on the Investigation of Mind Nature: Verses on the Play of Consciousness: Poetic Fiction, Fable, Fantabulation: Poems of the Mountain Hermit: Love Poems from The Book of Yes: Autobiographical Fragments, Memories, Stories, and Tall Tales: Ancient and modern spiritual texts, creatively refreshed: Writings from selected Western Mystics, Classic and Modern: Wisdom of a Spirit Guide: Thank You!
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