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Goodbye Jesus

ExC-blog --Truth


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By Nvrgoingbk


I searched among the Mayan ruins.


I traveled there alone.


I hoped to find it among the ghosts


Of worshippers now gone,




And when I came up wanting


I journeyed to a different shore.


I hoped to find it in a grand old mosque


And within the Muslim lore.




It was not there, and so I hurried


To a land not far away.


Now it was the Jewish Sabbath,


So I bowed my head to pray.




I left the temple wondering


Just where the truth could be.


I traveled by air, by foot, by bus?


I sailed an endless sea.




I read the Bagahvad Gita,


The Annalects divine


I learned the proper chanting?


Showed my respects at the Buddhist shrine.




Still, I wandered aimlessly,


Not finding what I sought.


I studied the philosophers


And the highest of human thought.




I gave my heart to Jesus


I made him Savior and Lord.


I was born again, spoke in tongues,


But on Sundays I was bored.




I tried my hand at the Ouija Board


I summoned the spirits of old


I stopped in to see my psychic, my shrink?


Wherever the truth was sold.




I smoked Peote with Geronimo


And entered a spiritual trance.


I lived among his people


And learned their tribal dance.




So many years I hunted


For what eluded me.


I voyaged to lands both near and far,


Studied Yoga and Tai-Chi.




I woke beside a pool of blue,


A lake amid the trees.


I pondered the lessons I had learned,


The things that I had seen.




I laid like that for quite sometime.


The evening came, then morn.


I wearied of this sole expedition now,


My traveling shoes long worn.




?I thirst,? I said, and so I leaned


To serve myself a sip.


I saw within that mirror an image


Raise water to its lips.




And that?s where I found it,


The truth I had tracked and hounded for so long.


?What a fool I?ve been,? I screamed to the sky,


?How could I have been so wrong??




The truth was never to be found within


Temples made of stone.


Cathedrals, with all their splendor,


Could never be its home.




Finally at peace, I journeyed back;


My friends, they greeted me.


?Did you find what you were looking for?


Pray tell, what did you see??




?What is the truth, wise-man,? they asked.


?Here is not where it can be found.?


?Then where Master? Can we travel there?


To that place of Holy ground??




?You must visit the shrines and the mosques,? I said.


?You must consult the wisest seer.


You must dabble in philosophy,


Face your darkest fears?




?You must learn the Koran and the Bible


You must pray to every god


You must bow in every temple


Your tired feet may trod,




And when you?ve come to the very end


Of the answers man has found


You will see an image of yourself and know


It? is there that truth resounds.



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