Where you go to die

Where you go to die                                                                         
 
Folded body; observing the breath.
Trying to keep a toehold in the here and now
 
as wave upon wave of illusion crashes over me.
I’ve been told, time and again,
 
I must live in the now, where the real things are,
but lately I see – the now is where you go to die –
 
the false self sputtering to a halt
from lack of fuel; thoughts evanescing
 
before they can take root
and establish fully the ego
 
where it lives – in the realm
of mind and imagination.
 
There is only space in the now
for pure consciousness (none for me).
 
Meditation is a means of acquainting myself
with the reality of my own non-existence
 
while still tightly wrapped
in the illusion of self.
 
O child of God, the truth is unclaimed,
everyone cosseted in their own imagination.