Wanting to be in the arms of love, longing from the
loneliness that time bestows upon the soul.
A reminder of that single-mindedness from the timeless pool of the void,
from beginningless time we have always been alone.
From some part of self, maybe the imagination,
and within that limitless power
The illusion of the many lives by the multitude all
coming into being, laughing, crying, hurting, and suffering.
"I", "Me", "Mine" - self-centered battling ego's
all dying in time
Copyright © Paul E. Lake | Year Posted 2019