all the flora and the fauna,

the ones in our guts,

turd producing,

burps belching,

warmth creator,

a desire maker.

tend it like a gardener,

feed the right stuff,

and out puffs a guff,

then a plop and a smile,

without any piles.

pop it in the forest,

you get flies,

worms and florid.

fungus and fun,

fruits growing in the sun.

it just needs some sense,

don’t dump it in the thames,

wash it up onshore,

extract its fertile core,

spread it on your potatoes,

the green beans,

and wheat grows.

balance is in the root,

the unwavering truth,

what we think we see

is nothing but an illusion,

projected psychedelic.

the light inspired,

perfect teacher,

never tires of the preacher,

faith is a tool,

a speader of danger

when wielded by a fool.

if your teacher is lower than you,

bow below them,

humility is a fuel.

the experts that give free,

qualified by their peers,

on the backs of proven ideas,

are the teachers,

and the words that they feature.

as our environment decays,

our lives shorten in days,

soon average age of the dead

is a decade ahead.

freedom from suffering

is a wish away,

seek the peaceful,

seek the yogis,

the meditators

and their uncommon codes.

question your path,

doubt our arrogance in self cherishing,

doubt the vision we see,

it deludes us constantly,

reject the pain and it’s causes,

accept the losses,

this life is contaminated,

wasted time,

vain glances,

distractions,

projections,

a sea of antiquity,

a flood of hypocrisy.

in the quiet of the peace,

lies comfort and relief,

the unbearable compassion,

ignites currents of bliss,

the vastness of the mind,

clear light never dies.

© Copyright 2022, IsatTM

stomach garden