The Ground of Perfection
The coarser elements of your experience are chanted like a mantra to appease a wrathful deity you worship with the sacrifice of your perfect beauty.
Forgotten awakenings, like liquid diamonds trickle through your cave, over the tinny pebbles of identity, eroding the solid minerals of the meaningless.
Your words cry, confess and whisper their mournful memories, consoling you in your failed attempts at resurrecting the dead.
Their ghosts beckon to the delirium of your boastful confusion, beckoning to the delirium of identity, beckoning to the delirium that reaches around you holding you close in intimacy.
Your grasp on the certainty of your delusion is receding in to the fluidic tides of knowing, while the sacred molecular bonds of your self portrait are swept away like grains of sand in to the sea.
But, like a child to its mothers breast you cling to the shores of your island of ice, hoping for the milk you drink to nourish something deeper than your soul.
You walk on water, only because it is frozen, as illusions become solid under your feet, suspending you in a bodily sensation of I am.
Cold and alone it cries for salvation from its despair, but retreats in fear of the melting ice, liquefied in the heat that shines on the surface of the water.
You are dissolving into its currents, dissolving in its fluidity, you are free and yet unsure of your footing, and so you hold desperately to the familiar that abandoned you long ago.
The atoms and molecules of your identity only draft the treaty between what is and what is not, and yet you sign your life away because of a contract that even now dissolves beneath you.
You cling your decaying memories, as they crack and splinter beneath your feet, and so you anxiously scavenge for the remnants of security upon which you hope to float.
Stand with me upon the uncertain, release your servitude to what stands upon you, forget the frozen forgeries of self definition and float weightless in the waters of awareness.
Here, the disintegrating mirror of your image fades like a dream you can only faintly remember, and the radiance of your wakefulness dispels the forgeries that never were.
Here, in the ageless reflections of your divine beauty the grains of sand and burning stars, dress you in the gowns of worlds and the tinny pebbles of your imperfections are as the jewelry of your true nature. ~Asa
