words mock me.
see me as i am.

Mackenzie Thorpe

WHO?

Mystery

The Truth is a mystery.
That's all it can be.

You are the mystery.

If you know not this,
you have not seen through the illusion.

Silence

On this day of low grey clouds, a blanket of fog over the landscape, my thoughts are of you, wondering what was, is and could have been.

I remember the words that were said between us, their efficacy to destroy in that moment, the bond of our past, present and future that was before us when we first met.

On this day of low grey clouds, a blanket of fog over the landscape, my thoughts are of you, wondering what was, is and could have been.

Those words, have transformed themselves into the silence that is now between us.

I will forever curse that day.

Fall's

fragile pale light
will not last,
in deed the days grow shorter.

Winds strip trees naked,
and while they shiver
the moon watches with its cold blue light.

Black cat held prisoner-
at midnight the latch is raised,
and the prison is empty.

Clouds of slate hide the black hawk
flying out of the north,
spectre of a spell cast centuries ago.

Untitled

How did your beliefs come about?
Through reading exoteric and esoteric works, experiential learning?
Did these ways of knowledge lead you to a perfect, doubt free certainty about reality?

What if those exoteric and esoteric works are completely wrong; based on false assumptions of those who came before you, and what about your experiences through your senses- perceived, conceived and abstracted, are they wrong?

What would be the condition of your existence then?

Who, Why, Where

The child asks not, "Who am I?"
For the child knows the answer.
It is we grownups who ask, "Who am I?"

The child asks not, "Why am I here?"
The child knows the answer.
It is we grownups who ask, "Why am I here?"

The child asks not, "Where am I going?"
The child knows the answer.
It is we grownups who ask, "Where am I going?"

A childs laughter is its answer to us grownups.