The Soul, Like Molten Rock, Burns Away The Dross of Ignorance. By Manatita
1. Molten Rock
Molten rock, your fiery furnace of burning flames and sweltering smoke,
Are absolutely mesmerizing to watch,
As you emit upwards your scorching rays,
In astounding magnificence!
Your clouds of pale-white ash, and
The fissures from your constant eruptions, are truly awe-inspiring,
As you gush some 70ft into the blazing sky,
And your lava recedes rapidly on trembling grounds.
Molten rock, I see an amazingly bright crimson-red,
As you spout powerfully into the air,
And the blue, now radiantly painted sky, observes in silence.
The majesty of your towering inferno, emblazes the atmosphere,
And the stunning images of your lava drifts,
As you cool and form plates on the surface of its lakes.
Molten rock, as I stand and stare at your magnificence,
I reflect on the stunning beauty of the Soul,
As It, too, burns away the dross of human ignorance,
Diving into the abyss of our darkness,
Utilising the fire of Love; and
Removing all impediments, to grant us Peace.
Manatita 3rd December, 2013.
2. He Would Not Climb the Mountain
It was damp, wet and drizzly-dark,
And he did not see the deep and scary trench.
The burning pain searing ‘cross his two broken ribs;
The excruciating torture from being moved to safer ground,
Masked and protected him, from the horror of where he fell.
24 hrs later, and lying on a hospital bed,
In a reverie from pills ingested to curb his knife-like agony,
And protect his pranic breath-force,
His mind retracted to the dark crevice
Into which he had slipped and fell.
Oh, what sadness prevailed! He had done so much work!
Such meticulous preparation!
He was as ready as any man!
But now, reflecting from where he lay,
And recognising the impermanence of each moment,
He just knew that he would never climb the mountain.
-Manatita 3rd December, 2013.
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