I found an old spiral notebook today, and in the spirit of recycling, perused its contents to see if there was anything in it worth keeping. What I found was a great source of laughter and wonder – a poem I wrote almost seven years ago, before I had delved into the non-dual world.
I mention that non-dual reference because I simply didn’t remember that I was even thinking along those lines at that time. Seven years ago I was still undergoing chelation for mercury poisoning, which was very difficult physically (that’s an understatement), but literally the answer to a prayer on other levels.
This is also one of the few poems I have ever written in which I made a conscious effort to include rhyming into the mix. The rhyming herein is one of the causes of my laughing out loud at what I have written.
Anyway, without further ado, here is what I found in this otherwise very recyclable notebook:

Can you steer me sir, and point the way
in the right direction,
that I might arrive, without fail,
at my final destination.

I’m most anxious, sir, to reach path’s end,
to stop traveling and at last arrive,
and glory in having found
that place where I might thrive.

Tell me, son, if I might ask,
what will you find upon arriving,
that you haven’t found here
where you are now living?

When I arrive at that locale,
after years and lives spent searching –
my dreams come true, my problems solved;
no more will I go yearning.

This pain I feel inside my soul
I’ve long been paving over,
with all manner of distractions;
for that I do seek closure.

When I reach that promised land,
only Beauty will I feel;
Faith and Compassion will be mine,
on Love’s altar will I kneel.

No more pain, no more anger,
woes will return no more;
no fear will ever plague me
when I reach that distant shore.

I long to know the Truth of things,
to see all life converging;
a samadhi in the truest sense –
a view of atoms merging.

A master I long to be,
to see my truth take form;
to teach other to do the same,
to save themselves from harm.

Your eyes tell of having found
Peace and journey’s end;
can you please advise me, sir,
as to when my path will end.

I see a world filled with sorrow,
hate and fear abound;
I long to use my mastery,
to bring these ills to ground.

This world can change, and change it will,
when all of us decide
to use our gifts and turn to Love,
and forever there reside.

There have been times, if truth be told,
I’ve been beaten by despair;
blackness reigns and hope has gone
that I would ever get there.

When these moods strike, I ask aloud,
why continue breathing?
I’ll naught succeed, nor reach my goal;
all’s left is conceding.

But then I find one such as you,
one that does embody
all that seems so right and true,
who in my eyes is worthy.

I’ll tell you what I can, my friend,
though what I say surprises;
this path your on has no end,
from all of my surmises.

All your seeking is doomed to fail,
not ’cause you’re not able;
from words that you have sent to me,
you’ve bought into a fable.

Even if you were to find
an ending true and fair,
you’d be surprised to look around,
and see that you’re not there.

All that which you say you need,
your wants and true desires,
this “I” that you have told me of
can’t find to what it aspires.

This “I” is false, I tell you true,
from lessons painfully earned;
This seeking you’ve embarked upon
will see your ambitions spurned.

The search won’t end, be design,
it never was the plan;
it’s purpose is to keep alive
the seeking if it can.

If there’s something in my eyes you see,
perhaps an inner glow,
it’s the certainty I possess,
that there’s little that I know.

I can say I’ve seen this chase,
this path and all it’s trappings,
is itself a hollow shell –
no present, simply wrappings.

I also know that I laugh aloud
at the best joke ever told;
that anyone needs to be enlightened
before they get too old.

This person that you say is you,
who is he, really?
There’s nothing you lack or truly need;
all this I see so clearly.

We’re acting out a perfect script;
we play our parts quite well;
the seeker is one such role
at which we do excel.

This blast from the past ends right here;
yes, a sudden ending;
I probably came up short of rhymes,
so maybe more are pending.

(We’ll see!)