(20) The Valley of the Dead

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It was not that long ago that your spirit decided to partake in a magical mystery tour through the land of the living dead…

Hitching a ride on the dark samsaric midnight train,

Peering through smeared skhandic windows on shattered landscapes filled with greed, joy, hate, memories and other forms of self-ignorance that cling to forlorn faces looking forward to the end, or perhaps new beginnings…

All contemplating the meaning of life…

Hardly comprehending what they see…

What they feel…

What they remember…

Or, above all, what they desire… 

As the journey winds down…

Some awaken from this perpetual circus of mad dreams…

Wondering…

What is there to contemplate…

Let alone finding some meaning behind it all… 

They recollect that when it comes to your true nature…

There are two choices…

Either locate and attune to it…

Thus making a station-stop alongside the truly free and deathless shore of suchness, tathata…

Or one continues the ride…

Amidst the thrill-frenzied crowd…

Rumbling, through tracks of intense desires and suffering…

Whilst the enchanted and lonely midnight-train-whistle

Echoes through dark valleys…

Marking the abodes…

Of the living dead…

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