Arahant

Many among us want To be an Arahant Without quite knowing Method of seeking As a caterpillar A plodding leaf feeler Who wishes to fly Like a butterfly Which it will if it waits In stillness sedate Likewise If we are wise Attaining purity-peace-bliss Wherein nothing is amiss Requires neither doing nor seeking Only becoming by blossoming By inwardly turned sentience In time dissolved patience Yet to fast forward We shift attention inwards Looking at layers of resistance In childlike innocence Playfully disassociating From narrow ego cravings Marking them as of foreign origin A far cry from our purity sanguine And thus standing still Allowing the divine to do its will Free of want We become an Arahant In stillness