The Arrival

Whether it is in this life

Or a life eons into the future . . .

There is

An Arrival.

 

For millennia

He roams as one

Who did not know.

 

For millennia

He roams as one

Who is . . . Subject.

 

Subject to illusion.

Subject to assault.

Subject to suffering.

Subject to misery.

Subject to confusion . . .

 

One who is subject . . .

Bears suffering

In all its forms.

 

Put simply,

He lives

As prey.

 

That which he believes

Is convincing.

 

He lives

For one lifetime

And those subsequent . . .

Under a spell.

 

The world

And its minions,

By way of their words and ways,

Perpetuate the spell.

 

In The Arrival

The spell is broken.

And the man

Sees Truth

For the first time in millennia.

 

It is The Arrival of wisdom.

The Arrival of clarity.

The Arrival of insight.

The Arrival of Truth.

 

It is only then

That he realizes

How far he had strayed.

 

It is only then

That he realizes

How incurable was his condition.

 

It was all flawed.

All of his ways,

His opinions,

And the fundament

Upon which he based his entire existence.

 

The very ground upon which he stood

Was quicksand.

 

All actions

For naught.

 

All pursuits

With improper understanding.

 

Every step

A misstep.

 

He who is under a spell

Cannot understand such things.

 

The sleepwalking man

Knows only the state of sleep.

 

Until . . .

The Arrival.

 

Namaste.