The One Thing
By Bill Cottringer

Too many amusing distractions,
Too many delusional illusions;
Too much foolish pride,
Too much consuming self.

Too many toys, too much stuff,
To look past and see through,
To really know
What is really real?

Trying to listen to my soul—
Its simple conscience
That knows right from wrong,
Beyond this or that.

Must go beyond unclear thinking,
Vague sensing and silly babble;
From the cellophane sidelines,
To see past what I’m looking at.

Now I am reaching deep—
Deeper than this or that,
Beyond me and all else,
For just one touch, one glimpse.

More than ketchup, sunsets,
Great sex or great art;
What E.T.’s finger pointed towards,
Same as Curly’s in City Slickers.

All this and still knowing
I’m just trying—
Struggling To become
What I came from.