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this cruel unfolding</p><p id="8c0b">the deeper down the hole I go the more I hear the scolding.</p><p id="b053">Chasing peace and finding pain, yet here I find what’s true</p><p id="3b83">Always there before me, creation sings in two.</p><div id="f36f" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/the-power-of-poetry-3d8dfd2beecc"> <div> <div> <h2>The Power of Poetry</h2> <div><h3>how to submit?</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*bvJ_eXhQ6TcN7aRwtSgWcQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><p id="b0d2">Thank you so much for reading! I treat Medium as an outlet for the musings in my skull. If you enjoy following them, all the better. You can contribute to these ideas by joining Medium as a member, where you can read all of my stories along with those from thousands of other authors. Use my <a href="https:

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//medium.com/@reedbender/membership"><b><i>link</i></b></a> and you’re helping me at the same time.</p><p id="7f8e">You can also support me directly by fueling my love for coffee!</p><div id="2924" class="link-block"> <a href="https://www.buymeacoffee.com/reedbender"> <div> <div> <h2>Reed Bender is typing...</h2> <div><h3>I write stories about science I find interesting, yoga, philosophy, and consciousness. If you're interested in any of…</h3></div> <div><p>www.buymeacoffee.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*iTX_VgqKKqkV9pqb)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><blockquote id="3d53"><p>“The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves.”</p></blockquote><blockquote id="b050"><p>— Carl Jung</p></blockquote></article></body>

Hollow Mandalas

Mandala 105, The Red Book, by Carl Jung. Photo taken by the author from Jung’s work. Source

In a world so clearly broken, can the center still be found?

Or does it lie defeated, beaten from the crown?

That end I push outside me

that treasure long forgotten

two thousand years and now I’m free

my crown of thorns has fallen.

So now I sit and wait for this kingdom to restore

the life of bliss I feel I’m due, I know there must be more.

A cosmic dance, transcendent gaze, whatever may appear

I don’t know what I’m after, just anything but here.

Samsara spins around me, a witness to this cruel unfolding

the deeper down the hole I go the more I hear the scolding.

Chasing peace and finding pain, yet here I find what’s true

Always there before me, creation sings in two.

Thank you so much for reading! I treat Medium as an outlet for the musings in my skull. If you enjoy following them, all the better. You can contribute to these ideas by joining Medium as a member, where you can read all of my stories along with those from thousands of other authors. Use my link and you’re helping me at the same time.

You can also support me directly by fueling my love for coffee!

“The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct acting from inner necessity. The creative mind plays with the objects it loves.”

— Carl Jung

Poetry
Spirituality
Literature
Poem
The Power Of Poetry
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