Mastering Nothing

 I am asked to share a poem on mastery,
yet how can I be a master of anything?
When I am imperfectly perfect,
I am a mistake in search of ‘getting it right’,
when there is no right or wrong,
there is no getting there,
as we are on a journey that is not about being a master,
but recognising the fool within.
I can write about being a Fool,
A Fool for Peace is my quest,
The holy grail of forbidden fruit,
out of reach,
yet within the heart,
of my endeavours.
I do not want to be a master over,
but I am the Fool within who falls over who gets up and who tries again,
for my tomb stone will read ‘she never gives up’,
for I go it alone and have no idea of where next,
For who can see my mastery when I am the Fool,
For I never get it right,
I never perfect it,
My skills are handy but never Fool proof.
I simply seek the truth to many questions,
and desire the wisdom to know when it is not.
A Fool for Peace strives for peace not money,
A Fool for Peace takes the path least travelled,
the path of least resistance,
A Fool for Peace often speaks up alone with no audience,
Not even a King to romance,
For romancing the stone turns up the Philosophers Stone,
Which was always to Know Thyself and be true,
For I cannot bare witness to another.
Self deception is the greatest betrayal,
So I must receive The Way as I walk lost in the labyrinth,
Encountering many false walls,
As I am a blind Fool who knows nothing,
Who master’s nothing,
But knows from no thing everything arises,
In a divine order that has no boundaries,
no logic, no goal or imposed designs.
The Way is simply what works and what does not,
What feels good and what does not,
And if one is awake enough to feel their way,
Then home is any place you rest your head,
As the world is your home.
Whether it is a palace or shanty town,
A car or a caravan,
Home is where the heart is,
And my heart is learning to find home,
anywhere I can rest my head,
and yet nowhere,
Realising the heart is