Of quiet fealty
On the riverbank, by your passivity
mitigate the compulsive spending of the old
and the frantic accumulation of the new.
Your mind will flow per usual
but give your thoughts little heed,
like a radio left on in the next room.
There’s no waiting here; no hope for the future;
not a speck of ambition – all yields of duality,
abandoned as you enter where the mind cannot go.
Miss not the briefest chance to thoughtlessly observe, release,
absorb and be absorbed.
Surrender to and participate in,
as best you might, the eternal, original Oneness
which appears (we are told)
ever before you and has forever been
(as you sit in your seeming isolation
and stillness) the sum total of your existence.
O child of God, what a river of words you use
to describe routine, recurring moments of quiet fealty.
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