Clear Onward Sweep Of Becoming
Poem By Genova Maaa my mother
Slowly the self becomes aware of
the horrible contrast between
its clouded contours
and the pure sharp radiance of the real.
The self senses its muddled faulty life,
its perverse self-centred drifting
and the clear onward sweep
of that becoming in which it is immersed.
((Graphic: Saved from
' Man's Clouded Sun Shall Brightly Rise...And Songs Be Heard, Instead of Sighs... Godspell)