Wednesday 22 February 2012



Salt doll, rope snake, duck rabbit
Hoary old chestnuts
To ask me who sees this life as solid.

In the fairground house of horrors
The floor starts to quiver.
The dear friends lose their lives.
Relationships form and bust.
The hungry lion of impermanence stalks the bush.
The carpet is whipped out from under the feet.

Two ways are open;
The well trod path of believing it all or
The freedom tango of seeing the false for the false,
The true for the true,

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