The Wealth Of The Heart

Every heart can sense the truth,
of the tyrrany of the left brain's abuse...

Each soul with it's head, dug deep in the sand,
hiding from the beauty, of our original plan.

Distanced from our original make up,
Pittance returns as we skillfully fake up.

Finger pointing at The ones with fakeness,
3 fingers point back, as these folks hearts no ache less.

Chasing dollars, at The end of the road,
could be you are happy, to lighten your load.

The incredible lightness, could be felt in your skin,
yet the dopamine obsession, was pre-destined to win.

Reward centre hard-on, rather than wild,
a mere wild goose chase, head space far from a childs.

Caught in the concept, the notion of time,
1000th fold weaker, than our ancestors-divine.

Each generation carries the karma,
coz we stepped out of Eden, to be factory farmers.

& Yet we're alive, and we have this moment,
that alone is half way, to the blissful components.

Now's in your heart, can be painful to feel it,
yet it's yours, it is free, & nobody can steal it.

They can rob you of clothing, your wealth and your home,
if you can live without loathing, you're richer on your own.

Kings since forever, Gold upto The Sky,
can't endevour to be, castleless yet so High.

The core of your soul, is no vending machine,
it's an infinite window, to a universe pristine.

Poverty conscience is a sad state of mind,
we could have it all in our hearts, yet we're blind.

We have forever, if we skillfully manouver,
it could go in a flash, just like dust to a hoover.

The left side of the brain is skillfully theiving,
our spiritual wealth whilst our right side is greiving.

To root in the presence so deep can be frightening,
yet far from unpleasant, this way is enlightening.

Detatched from The mad-you, your house car or wife,
is the original conscience, you shall value for life.

Know it's as sacred, as your own embryo,
protect it like it's naked, then it's surely will grow.
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