Somewhere in the Ten Directions
An Imperfect (and thus true) Assessment of Existence

Body
Somewhere in the ten directions there is a space for me.
Encompassed by all of the directions there is empty space,
A perfect reflection of me.
Which is more grandiose:
The space I take up
Or all of existing space?
While I try to make a story work,
A loose collection of ideas, founded in wandering ash,
The entire remainder shapes the context.

Speech
What frequency constitutes the understood, the heard?
The very depths of space rumbles over wavelengths
Too wide to fathom.
The most surreal of all:
From the vibrating atoms
Comes comprehension.
Why look for meaning in the realms outside the self;
What you hear is yours to understand
What left your mouth now belongs to others.
Mind
Somewhere in the ten directions a heart beats to pain.
Spurred on by the nonsensical immaterial feelings
Of a humanity denied.
Materialists get angry:
Remind them again
Their emotions aren’t even dust.
There’s nothing more impressive about my dreams
Than the supernova of a supergiant star
Miraculous is endemic to neither.
The Union of the Two
Find me in the small places of the human world.
Where I love a family,
Food and drink are shared and enjoyed.
The infinite is contemplated.
See also the ends of space,
Every last particular,
From here to the start and end of time.
Even if just with your mind’s eye.
When you know all of these are not different
Bliss will overwhelm you.
About the Creator
Stéphane Dreyfus
Melanchoholic.
Struggling to obey the forgotten rules.


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