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Section Index


The Mind is like rare taste buds
that once upon a time
required sweet and sickly things;
and thought them quite sublime.

But later still, when wiser,
it requires something more;
a little less simplistic;
with more substance at its core.

There comes a time moreover,
when the food which makes it sing
is the subtle pulse of truth itself;
and the essence of 'NO THING';

The question I would ask those,
who claim this cannot be:
How could such hunger then be quenched
if no food were in the sea ?

But truly do I say it's done;
and all kinds of food are there;
from simple loves
and simple likes;
to ones which are so rare.

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