Surfing the Crest of a Tsunami: A Poem
It's all an illusion, a virtual show
this material world including all of us
and our vibes being high or pathetically low
is all that really matters, not our triggers of fuss.
Confined in this prison of five senses
that make us believe how all this is real
building our values upon some pretenses
making out of coexistence some real big deal.
In some fine frequencies I am bathing my soul
surfing on the crest of my whole life story
enjoying this chunk of the time I stole
not regretting my mind's outlawry.
From its meditating depth and my liberated heart
I see this whole world as my deliberate creation
so I love it intensely with its every crazy part
with some fuss not really worth to mention.
What used to be insurmountable human crap
appearing in its varieties of sheer blindness
now merely a responsibility on my own lap
not called insane for my love of kindness.