Fleeting

Possibilities

In that nano moment between the beginning of thought and the beginning of breath, it has sunk back into the primordial swamp, that glimpse of realization, that wisp of clarity.

It started with longing, longing for the other, longing for the end of longing, longing for the self.
Self and other, one and all, all and nothing,
I am one. I am all. I am nothing.
One with the self, one with the all, one with the nothing,
The lotus sleeps in the swamp of all possibilities.

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