The Game

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
Upon oneself:
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?
Perhaps so.
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

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Adam

As a man among men, I can learn.

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