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The Eternal Center (Free verse) by Quarton
Circular reality, no beginning or end,
lifetime following lifetime
as we traverse the perimeter--
mistaken reality like fool's gold,
tempting us to abandon our search
for the core;
a mystical state of balance and harmony
where the truth sits in the center
and knows.
The nucleus of the circle realized
in rare moments of complete clarity,
beyond words and duality;
able to cross illusion's barrier
to the inner circle
where the whole resides
in infinite wisdom, ever unfolding
from the center outward--
like the petals of a flower,
evolution's masterpiece of realization,
consummated by emerging oneness.
Awake, we walk the circle's fringe,
duality perceived as reality
while the band plays a polka
and the old people dance on tired legs
of disillusionment and despair--
round and round in a loop,
forward motion but going nowhere;
like a dog chasing its tail.
Asleep, life played out on fantasy's stage,
able to transcend finite limits;
imagination free and soaring amongst
the sun and stars, a dance of cosmic revelry,
delusions of self's essence
fueled by autonomies lure while
only the dance is real,
all else but imagination's penchant
for the imaginer--
fantasy no harbor of self-realization,
the core of the circle still unknown.
So many players outside the center,
duality's children born of deception;
free will a concept untenable
from eternity's view--
as if we could ever become separated
from our true selves,
shared unity torn asunder by a will
that is non-existent at the infinite level.
Illusion and duality seen as reality,
assuming many forms in their duplicity
as we continue on the circular path
to nowhere, life's many trials
destined for that cosmic scrap pile
of yesterday's profundities, discarded
like so much excess baggage as we
are all drawn slowly inexorably to our
final place of rest at the circle's core--
forever united with the eternal center.
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