Future Self


Will my inner workings
be more playful then
Will they mull less on survival
Will they get to the sparkling whole of day
Will they be a constant moment of arrival;
of knowing and unknowing at-once?
Will they finally get Tao?

I was told by a monk who’d kept silence for years
of how his inner dialog went mute
He said his chattering selves came to accord
and all his buzzing skull talk
slid to mum like the tail
of a fifties forty-five

as if a cosmic engineer
had dialed down gain
and spun 
many to one
bringing an end to

fire and rain

And what then, I asked,
what was that like?

Nothing to be said,
he said. 
to be like

by Jim Culleny

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