The Frames the Same
Governed by my brain.
Stripped of superficial,
And the place I came,
Right down to the bare bones,
The frame is still the same.
I look into the mirror,
And here I am again,
Determined by my thinking,
Governed by my brain.
Conditioned by my parents,
Taught the golden rule,
Tutored to do what I’m told,
And sent off to school.
Living next to the litany,
Living in a lie,
Not connected to my centre,
Traits that I belie.
Mending the mandala,
Beauty before my eyes,
Dreaming for self-unity,
That material denies.
Underneath the fanfare,
And the fictitious fame,
There lies a place of beauty,
A very little flame.
Millions have admired it,
Few have fraternised,
Or looked into the infinite,
Deep within our eyes.
The message to mere mortals,
From those few that knew,
Is to forget the rest,
And know there is no clue.
Deep within the diadem,
The thorns that Jesus wore,
We all know the frames the same,
Just open up the door.
©
David Rudder
17th August 2021
Thanks for reading.
