The recent past is first to go.
The surface thoughts, they melt like snow.
Memories no longer hide the soul,
without a chill to keep them whole.
The innocence begins to show.
The decades can’t obscure the glow.
Until the only past I see,
delusions only held by me.
You feel no suffering or sin.
You’re going back to where we’ve always been.
This masquerade is wearing thin.
It points us back where we’ve always been.
You’ve let go. Why can’t I?
I think my clouds are better than the sky.
You’ve let go. As will I.
We don’t even have to fly.
Imaginary lives collect
like plaques in our brains.
Our eyes may be vacant,
seemingly insane,
but we never leave home.
Trail Wood,
12/31
The Ephemeral Nature of Thought
As we traverse the whimsiworld, it becomes apparent that the recent past, with its surface thoughts and fleeting concerns, is the first to dissolve into the ether. Like snow under a warming sun, these transient moments lack the endurance to form the bedrock of our souls.
Revelation of Inner Innocence
As these ephemeral memories fade, a primordial innocence emerges, unobscured by the passage of time. The glow of our inner being, undimmed by decades, shines forth, revealing that the only past that persists is the one we choose to believe in, a tapestry of personal delusions.
The Illusion of Pain and Sin
You, having shed the burdens of suffering and perceived transgressions, return to our original state of being. The masquerade of life, with its elaborate disguises and intricate dances, grows weary and threadbare, directing us back to the essence of our existence.
The Liberation of Letting Go
You have released your hold on the illusions, questioning why I cling to mine, believing perhaps that my clouds of thought are superior to the unadorned vastness of the sky. But in time, I too shall release, realizing that our ascension does not require wings, only the will to let go.
The Accumulation of Imaginary Lives
Our imaginary lives, rich and varied, amass within us like artifacts of who we believe we are, inscriptions on the essence of our being. To the outward gaze, our eyes might seem devoid of life, lost in a seemingly insane vacancy, but in truth, we are always present, always home.
The Illusion of Departure
The notion that we can ever leave home, the central point of our consciousness, is itself an illusion. Whether our eyes sparkle with clarity or cloud with confusion, we are eternally rooted in the core of our existence, in the space where we have always been.
Summary
The recent past and superficial thoughts are transient, melting away to reveal our inner innocence and eternal glow. Suffering and sin are illusions, and as we let go of these, we return to our fundamental state of being. Our imaginary lives are mere inscriptions on our true essence, and despite outward appearances, we never truly leave the home of our consciousness.
We are Space Monkey
In the dance of memories and the theater of life, we observe the shedding of the recent past and the unveiling of our true nature. As we let go of our imagined skies, we come to realize that flight is not necessary to reach where we’ve always been—home.
We invite you to reflect on this journey of letting go and returning to the essence. What are your thoughts on the home within us that we never leave?
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