Heart-ripping ego-trippin

My invite to a cosmic dance

was greeted with a fighting stance

Your ego runs again the show

so I can only let you go.

When we were acting from the heart,

we had some really amazing start.

Tuning into the flow wasn't hard,

while enjoying love, life and art.

My love for you is still boundless,

yet it seems futile to address

joining our path to wholeness -

so far it produced quite a mess.

Your fierce reaction posed a real test,

I still continue to wish you all the best. 

Suchness

If you choose a life from the shelf

you'll block the path to your true self.

Life offers so much more variety,

than just to function in society.

Yet when your ego becomes your master,

life easily turns into a disaster.

The game of craving and aversion

prevents healthy energy conversion.

Once you tame that fearsome hungry beast

you will find true peace, at least.

You can stop swimming against the stream,

turning the re-occurring nightmare into a dream.

Don't be afraid to seek your art of living,

and life becomes the gift that keeps on giving.

Fox in socks on the rocks

You told me about your desire to heal,

but that's not really what I can feel.

You provided me often with food,

and also your fast-changing mood.

Now I stand here with an empty hand,

still don't know what I had to understand

of the obstacles created in the distant past,

which stopped the chance of our story to last.

So my heart fills again with sadness,

walking alone through a world of madness,

waiting for love's resurrection,

another heart-felt connection.

I stay connected to you, my beloved fox,

hope you're happy after putting me in a box.

In the lives of early hominides, accidental death would like have been commonplace. Whatever the fatal maimings and disembowelments. however, and whatever the sense of no-moreness, a concept of death as inveitable, as mine, and as the lot of all living creatures would not have been thereby grasped. On the contrary, there might well have been a vague sense that "barring such a fate, I will go on 'forever'" In other words, only with experiences of natural death might the concept of death have taken root. Only through such experiences might it have been realized that a certain nullifying fate was inevitable and mine.

In the appearance of the-Other-in-death, a no-moreness of similarity is set against a persistence of similarity. It is of course an initial sense of likeness that awakens both - the still resonating and the dilute similarity of self to Other.