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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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