A brain cannot absorb more than its mass.
I tell myself it helps to let it drain
in seeking to achieve a higher plane.
How often, wearing blinders, do we pass
the Buddha Image in a blade of grass
or shun the light beyond the windowpane
for fear its pull will render us insane?
My will is steel, my spirit tempered glass.
Yet there are times the mind will not be barred
from grappling with enigma. Nonchalance
won’t turn the key to wisdom or prepare
the soul for nourishment. Without regard
for tethered cognizance, my psyche wants
to conquer obfuscation in the air.
2002 Mary Boren