Cycle of Experience

Effortlessly I create a figure
Out of my perceiving and it's own ground.
A need emerges with so much vigour
That energy to meet it will be found.
I move to seek essential action
That will result in required contact.
Homeostasis has no reaction
All systems now settled with their own pact.
I move steadily to resolution.
My cycle of experience is done
With this happy form of execution
I rest a while before I have more fun.
But straight away I notice something new
With no more time for a look back review

Conception

With a firm grip on the brush in your hand
You paint the picture of reality.
Harnessing the senses in a tight band.
An artist using your polarity
To create the truth you want me to see.
Anxiety and opposition come
But, to you this is part of what must be.
You have no doubt at all that it is from
My contact with the world your canvas grew.
Your palette taken from the material
Of a life in which, to you, nothing is new.
Just one episode in a serial.
I have to confess that when you are right
I enjoy the ride and will seek no fight.

Perception

This world occurs to me through perception.
All I suffer authored by its pen.
I will accept my role in conception.
And also from my parents way back then.
This muddled world of mine seems real to me.
Solid as rock, hard as a diamond.
And yet looking once more could set me free.
Discovering there is more than one pond.
Meditation could suspend how it is.
As thoughts and feelings emerge from the mist
And we see the work of the mind as his.
A rule set in the form of a list.
I will wriggle from this intervention.
Much more preferring my own invention.