‘Neath Ego’s thin veil, there be Eden.

That thought comes ’round yet again…
What can I do better?
And again…
How can I achieve more?

What can I take up or acquire
That will make me someone admired
Make me someone adored?

This is the nattering of ego
The me, the self, the I
It’s not who one truly is, you see
It’s the fallen, the mistake, the lie

A delusion, a fabrication,
A ramshackle facade of imaginary things
Nation; religion; political affiliation — all the nonsense
‘Neath which the glory of one’s true nature sings

For in reality you are All consciousness
Of which your manufactured identity,
Your ego, is but a part
Using arithmetic and measure it helps you to function
But it has been hijacked by society’s dark art

For in fostering the fiction that ego’s chatter
Is in totality, all that you are
They get workers
and voters, and soldiers
who for nought but baubles and trinkets conspire

In transcending imagined identity
One awakens
In knowing others are likewise afflicted
One is freed

Through meditation
We wither the fruit of Eden
We return home
In ascending beyond creed

Read Andy Crowley, Sole Sorcerer of Sanctuary