Wandering and observer
Travelling to foreign parts
But never astray, lest
Encountering foreign faces
Subtly, though, a quaint fascination
Feeling the same core within
A similar presentation
Going where I go; upon only will
Of the Tradition and yet shattered
Glass on the floor:
Safe and pretty from afar
But beware if one is to grasp it!
Picking up the pieces; calmly, patiently
Without thought of “next” or “where” or “how far”
But to act to act: upon itself
This is the Game!
Ought one even play, though?
Competition, confliction; an externalization
Is the Game individual?
Perhaps so, perhaps so
Is the external a mirroring of the individual?
The Game is within fractals within fractals within fractals
Subsisting oblivious to observers although
They may cheer and shout if they please
Conflicted within the ego; a conflict of two
Sides of the realm; inner and outer
Which will reign supreme? One? None? Both?
Both: for they are two sides of the same coin
The very coins used in the grand Game!
Don’t you see?
Me neither — we’re all fools here
Upon the supra-temporal one wonders
One walks, however, upon the temporal
To think, to know; to understand, to see
Further though, I go; steadily
I have all the time in the world
Patient, honest, warm, upright;
Still and quiet, triumphal in grace
But in the grace of whom?
You decide for it is
All in the mind