THE PURE LAND WHERE MEN CEASE FROM GRASPING

Belladonna you don't need
To come to me,
You are here already.
I embrace you in these leaves
And the soil at my feet;

For so long we have had dreams,
Questions asked that beg belief;
Out of the vast underworld
We share one common psyche

Not opinions merely:
Sovereign is this one universal soul
This Mind unconscious
Which embraces us all

Within this Mind we are condemned
Or redeemed; we may be dumb
Or we may speak;
In this ultimate place,
The objective is subjectivity;

There is nothing beyond
That does not partake
Of this one infinity:
The pure land
Where men cease from grasping.









(C) 2011-2019 By W.G. Milne