The bed on which I sleep
Is dead wood
The ground I tread
Is volcanic matter
The world as I see it
Is just a recreation
As electrical pulses in my head
The identity of the I that speaks now
Is just an illusion of memory
Where from this journey
where to this path
Where are the Gods
Who maketh my hopes
When all there is is just thoughts
This thing called hope
And love and faith
These words used loosely
To claim and embrace
My work and thoughts for
Years in pain what for I ask
Cause its just another pulse within
Loss of things and hope we speak
Things that pain and hurt within
Love and faith that make sense to live
Shall change and let nature prevail
The world is ruthless and hard as it is
The now is changing every cell that is
Certain is change as death for that mind
That holds these thoughts as itself in I
Where then is love or hate or faith
For all that is is change and flux
So I hold on to sanity and remain
Watchful of this change as my God within
These meaningless words can't touch
The realm of that which changes not
For if that change-less exists
It exists as that existence consciousness infinite
Sat chit Ananda
