Ripples in the Pond of Cosmos

There it is, all of it,
How clear a reflection do we need?
The heart stores the deep, the All, the One.
Our head with frizzled mind banters on,
As far as I can tell about nothing whatsoever.

There's a telling tale, from the old Edgar Cayce,
Reminiscing about his future life, on a ride
To what used to be New York City.
Like the streets of Falujah, horror laid out
For a ghoulish banquet of Death.
And what caught his eye and bent his ear?
A fear mongering gouger selling water at the cost of life.

Learn from our lessons? Change of heart?
For that ever so brief moment I caught it!
The tone of oneness dropped like a pebble
In the pond of Cosmos, rippling out
To the far reaches of the Creator's handiwork.

There on the shore of Everything
Welcome one, welcome all . . .
Ah, but so few are there. So few.
The rest? Choices made woven in time,
Give us our Now, don't they?