The image
Burned into my bones
The brand of infinitude
Is the same form
The very essence
Shaping your existence
We are ikons, my friend
Divine images of metaphor and thunder
Not wood
Not stone
Not iron
But flesh and blood and spit and breath
Absolute freedom of mind changing
Mind freeing
Will to power
Ya Warde
We are inhabited
By the same Real
Reverberating
Rippling
Through thought word deed
Find yourself!
Buried beneath the past
Mountains of confusion
And pain
Forged through collision
Of what is
With what I thought
Find yourself!
You are here, my friend
Now
Right now
Free and innocent
As the day you first drew breath
But with solar orbits
Of enlightenment
And illumination
Set as rings
In the trunk of your tree
Find yourself!
The masks are just that
The roles you play
In our drama
But when the curtain falls
The real play begins