Having Arrived . . .

Throughout his life

He mistook illusion

For reality.

 

That which lay before his eyes

Processed by the Mind

And presented to him

As something other

Than what it truly was.

 

Prey to the Mind’s games,

And the words of the world.

 

Having Arrived,

He sought no such categorization,

No such designation.

 

For what does a man need

When he attains . . .

Everything.

 

No pangs

To flee suffering.

 

No longing

For happiness.

 

The heart

No longer stirring.

 

The Mind

No longer whirring.

 

It is what he had been searching for

From the beginning of days.

 

Moving further into the wilderness,

Into uncharted lands,

Firmly removed from the eyes of the world

And its heavy influence.

 

Having no desire

To be the first.

 

Having no inclination

Toward accomplishment.

 

A conquering

Without the need

To conquer.

 

What power does illusion have

Over a man who has witnessed

The strings behind the stage.

 

What power does the world have

Over a man

Who has Become Free.

 

What power does the Mind have

Over a man

Who has witnessed

Its seed.

 

Having at long last

Figured it out . . .

He owned

Without wanting.

 

He saw

Without looking.

 

The end of days,

The completion of the old life,

Spawned a new Beginning.

 

A beginning

To end

All beginnings.

 

Namaste.