Straightforward and cunning

As the crow flies, the distance between the heart

And the mind, barely a wingspan, both deep wells

With no bottom to be found, welling up from within

There is much that’s different, between the two

The cunning mind and the straightforward heart

Mind is a swamp, hiding the cunning amongst thoughts

The heart is like a cloud which cannot hide the rain

Road to the inner being is straight, no guile is needed

When one’s heart lights the way, the mind refuses come along

Fearing it’s cunningness will be laid bare, a matter of survival

For the great deceiver, free to fly while it imprisons us

The heart never leaves our side, its brief is straightforward, keeping us alive

Desire and dispassion

A tug of war fought in the mind and heart

Pulling at the rope of happiness, sought by the force

Of desire, but held by the power of dispassion

Desire, the engine of the mind, has many tracks to choose from

Dispassion starts where all those tracks end

Desire thrives on quantity, dispassion on quality

The seeds of misery are sown when desire is indulged

Dispassion is seedless, the fruit can no longer become a tree

Humanity is provided bundles of happiness

Needlessly frayed and broken in this odd matchup

A tussle as old as time, between desire and dispassion

Desire may lay claim to the mind, but dispassion leads one to the rest

Tuition and intuition

Educating the mind, a lifelong task, it is hard to finish

Even as hairs turn grey, the seeking never stops

Hungry for evermore, with a ravenous appetite for books and bytes

The tuition is costly, paid with precious drops of time

None of it can buy even a flash of intuition

That gateway is unknown to most, it isn’t hardwired

It is an inexplicable flood that comes unannounced

There isn’t any coursework that may be teach us the way

The window to the source of intuition lies at the bottom of the mind

Below piles of information, whose tuition has cost us dear

We are the only species with the sixth sense, no one can be denied

It’s potential, realized when seeking ends and receiving begins

Knowledge and wisdom

Knowledge may rise and set, with each passing generation

With a changing yardstick, unlike wisdom

And the light of the sun, burning with the same intensity

Whether seen or ignored, but they cannot be refuted

Knowledge is sourced, and it can be taught

Wisdom dawns within, it cannot be bought or stolen

Knowledge needs validation, widom offers it

Like air, wisdom cannot be hidden, but knowledge can

Wisdom is married to humility, knowledge may cavort with pride

Knowledge in action promotes the material, comforting for the body

When wisdom comes alive, it’s spiritual solace to the mind, and the soil

On which sprouts the tree of knowledge, it’s fruits are meant to be for all

Materialist and spiritualist

They look at the same thing, the materialist and the spiritualist

One accepts and the other denies, everyone can see

Chasing diametrically opposite goals

Not realizing they may meet again, when the circle is complete

Living on common ground, why is their vision so different?

In one, the ego aims to fill, in the other ego tries to empty, the mind

But the scent of arrogance is the same

Each claiming the other is living foolishly

Both are collectors, one collects externally, the other internally

On the day of departure, both leave everything behind

But their pride, gross in the materialist, and subtle in the spiritualist

One who is neither leaves with nothing, joining the source of everything

Flexible and inflexible

The body is held up by the inflexible, at its core

It is just a skeleton, a sight that invokes great fear, but without it

The soft gaze of the eyes cannot peer into those of the beloved

Bones soften with age, but the mind does otherwise

It is a cloud hanging over the body, hiding the vast sky beyond

Those with flexible commitments to desires, may get a glimpse

No matter how dark a cloud, it cannot blot out the light of the sun

Unless the sun chooses otherwise, but why would it?

It’s inflexible schedule makes it an old faithful, shining down and baking

Our hard physical reality, conforming to the laws of life, and not our taste

The mind can be made flexible, whether it showers happiness or sorrow

How we choose to live life is flexible, but the consequences are inflexible   

Conceit and humility

There isn’t a single voice from deep space, proclaiming

Its vastness and grandeur, every heavenly body bows down

To its fundamental laws, that’s the power of silent humility

A portable universe is carried by everybody, on a temporary lease

For us to use and enjoy, but the voice box of the mind

Full of throaty thoughts, proclaims with a conceited tone

Rippling through the mind, a sense of ownership over time

The body isn’t won through a hard fought battle

But a chance gift, a vehicle whose engines we have scuttled

Making it an empty shell, echoing praises and airing dreams

Now a seat of conceit, but the sky laughs, one day our bodies

Will melt into the muddy terrain, restoring the quiet calm, in place of us