Content With Small Things [rev.] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Central air-con replaced by the buzz of a
myriad mobile units & the heat is intense,
spraying water and enjoying the soft mist
of coolness, the advantage of buzzing in
the open-plan office is immense:

Its rushing sound like the gentle surf of the
sea muffles other human noise, I no longer
need a screen of super-loud music to drown
out the drone of a harsh voice - I'm starting
to like all my colleagues - there's hope we

Might be in a ‘comprehension gestalt' where
we shall realise our Oneness with Everything;
well, this is debatable as Seth's visions sound
like fantasy - do we really only focus on every
Xth moment in material reality while our

Consciousness continuously traverses infinite
dimensions and our awareness keeps turning
like a gyroscope constantly moving through All-
That-Is, yet Ego only knows small units of time
in order to be content with small things-

At this point Ego forces me to stop looking at
Infinity and return to my translation of pain in
the Congo; wish I were there to find solutions
to their immediate problems - now Ego gets
angry: PERFECT words are waiting to be

Found like abandoned pearls, polished and
presented in context; no golden rings in pig
snouts allowed where meanings as precise
as perfectly straight lines between concept
and symbol is created, no matter what else

Happens in different planes; I sigh, Yes Master,
Thy will be done - then brighten up: only for as
long as my mind's in this plane, I believe we're
travelling through MANY planes at once & my
mind's gyroscoping freely - far from Thee!

[13 October 2014]