Birth – Struggle – Victory

It comes to me.

From where I do not know.

A thought

a new feeling.

Or an old one

not felt for years.

Where were you?

If you were within me

how is it I did not try to bring you here?

If you were without me

how did you become so present

now closer to me

than my own flesh?

Birth – newness

a spontaneous mystery.

You, thought, come to me

ex nihilo.

I turn you over in my mind

to get a feel for you

and to see all your angles

like a figure which may on inspection

have a crack, or be perfectly smooth.

I try to encompass you

to assimilate you perfectly into me

so that you are seamlessly undifferentiated

from Truth.

For that would be most satisfying.

Yet a discord arises

a violence

a shriek against the universal harmony.

An incongruity rubs against the laws of metaphysics

like sandpaper

on the skin of an infant.

How can such a thought be?

How can it fit

into the ensemble of my life-mind?

I must digest it.

But how?

What is false cannot be true

and if true

then some overthrow it will have

on other Truths lodged fathoms deep

in me.

Yet to run would be the cowards way.

So I must face it.

Perhaps

if I stare long enough

it will come into focus.

Or maybe

it will lose its power

like the stars

which no longer hold captive the middle aged.

Obsession – mulling

chewing on the thought, like a piece of rubber

without nourishment

and no progress.

Denial – anger

cursing the practice of thinking.

For what good does it do

if you understand how the stomach works

but have no food to put into it.

Rebuttal – arising

laughing at former despair.

The very food I need is Truth

and so I cannot stop the search

even if I would.

Thus I must keep trying to find

a fitting place for the puzzle piece.

Yet

it is not the not-finding

(I may fail, after all)

but the not-trying-to-find

which is unacceptable

and leads to defeat

rather than

Victory.

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