Of Little Use

There is but little use

To most things.

 

There is no need

To stop

Or start.

 

The eye is pleased

By the shiny

And the colorful.

 

The mind is pleased

By the conceptual

And the self-important.

 

One may meditate.

But it is of little use.

 

One may practice this and that.

But it is of little use.

 

Actions are typically performed

For imagery

And symbolism.

 

They tend to bring nothing.

They tend to be

Of little use.

 

One tries many things.

Things heralded by the world.

Things preached by priests.

Things taught by books.

 

They tend to be

Of little use.

 

One hankers for love

Chases validation

Craves acceptance . . .

 

Such pursuits

Tend to be

Of little use.

 

The world is abuzz.

The world glitters.

Behind the noise

And the glitter,

Lies repeated dissatisfactions.

 

A thing rises,

It falls,

It excites,

It disappoints . . .

 

It tends to be

Of little use.

 

A thing that is not permanent

Compels one to grasp it.

 

Grasping it

Brings the hope of joy.

 

But the thing goes.

And the grasping

Turned out to be

Of little use.

 

All things

Tend to be

Of little use.

 

All people

Tend to be

Of little use.

 

To memorize something

That is not borne of one’s natural experience

Is also . . .

Of little use.

 

 

Namaste.