-- THE MIND –

John Herlihy

The mind

A thousand horses everywhere stampeding,

Flocks of birds flying in rhythmic waves.

Plunged into a narrative of words, reading,

Ancient runes carved on the walls of caves.

The mind

The question: not what is it? – but who?

An inquisitive child frolicking, ever at play.

Restless, invisible, silent, as wind that blew,

An old man now waiting, content to pray.

The mind

As a king, over everything to reign,

Over itself, to reign only as a pauper.

Certainties sparkle, but doubts remain,

The mind surges forward, only to falter.

The mind

Ever seeking, longing to be at rest,

The surface waters selling down, stilled.

Its deepest desires mercifully blessed,

All thoughts abandoned, no longer willed.

The mind

Thoughts roam endlessly, everything to claim,

Searching for answers from entangled roots.

Flighty birds that never land on a solid plain,

Reasoning, speculating, without any proofs.

The mind

Somehow its own folly it never sees,

Regarding the one thing essential always blind.

Its agitated waters with the industry of bees,

Seeking, never finding, truly the hallmark of mind.

The mind

The motivation of mind in pursuit to know,

Life’s mystery always waiting to be unveiled.

In dying, the soul, not the mind, will know,

The answer to all those questions concealed.

The mind

Whether in heights of joy or depths of despair,

Emotions take up residence in the mind’s well.

Only stilled when the mind enters into prayer,

Awash in the unthinkable, its intimacies to tell.

The mind

As a forlorn orphan, ever seeking its true home,

Its ultimate goal, overturning every stone and leaf.

Wandering near and far afield, under Heaven’s dome,

Reckless, agitated, stealing moments of treasured relief.

The mind

Yet the mind also touched by traces of brilliance,

The imagination awakened as if by magic wand.

Imagination and creativity drawn in sacred alliance,

As ripples of illumination spread on the mind’s pond.

The mind

The cup-bearer of consciousness housed in a brain,

The witness of our inner world, our thinking voice.

Serving out droplets of an intoxicating champagne,

Lifts us up, casts us down, at every whim and choice.

The mind

Never at rest, ever seeking rest, finally at rest,

Neurons of shadow and light interact as if at play.

Powers of reasoning and intellection equal to the best,

The cup of the mind pours forth on its unique way .

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Monday 4 July 2022