In rapid haste of see and grab We fruitlessly strive For material gain Denying any spiritual need To nourish the soul It's burning us dry of any hope For a happy balance. The system is cracking at it's seams Constrictive thought forms are spilling over Stifling human potential In a vain effort to gain manageable control Of simmering madness Contained in neatly compartmentalized boxes Nature chaotically contained in little boxes. But amidst this holy turmoil ancient wisdom revisits. Having stood the test of time Flexible, resilient with renewed confidence advances forth Into a world skeptically attempting to decipher it's uncertainty What was an 'untruth' yesterday is what is true today. The illusionary paradigm of Maya Welcomes the weary traveler And reminding the forgetful audience Of the Hand that holds the cup.
