I had a thought that thought is a child fumbling, stumbling with acquired knowledge, and the parent, wise, looking decidedly abstract and endlessly vacant, though still smiling back as pure mind with a myriad pin – points of light to give hope, both inwardly and endlessly without, seeming to say, ' let the children go play hide and seek for us, let us make a rolling path through light of day, through night of darkness, until they come to know, their home is nowhere, save where the mind and heart is.' Thought then, being thought, had little chance of seeing more than nothing, endless nothing, yet the more of nothing would bring back what it had chosen to forget, that all is infinitely mind and not that ' enchanted loom' 'the brain,' that helps such diverse children to play, all would be well then, all will be one until thoughts of fun, run away again and that, will it not, be simply that?
Roy K Austin resides in Dorset, England. He is retired. He has rural pursuits and enjoys walking his labrador. He enjoys studying 20th century sages/philosophers and drawing on Vedanta and mystical insights, and he enjoys writing poetry that points to the non- dual vision of life. He hates gardening and is always at it.