If all is of mind, then what are we doing?
Physical life, is it worth pursuing?
So discouraging, so immature,
How can mere man, ever endure?
The mind can think in such jubilations,
Creative thoughts giving sensations.
We rush to create, with no time to spare,
No patience displayed; we do not dare.
Take our time, uncertain as it seems,
Let thoughts mature manifesting...
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