A man sits at the dinner table with his family,
Seeing forks mashing bright green boiled pees,
And mashed potato into gravy.
Suddenly, he feels,
A message come crashing through his mind
like a brick thrown through a glass window, with a message
telling him: ‘The start is the end,
And the end is the start.’
And all his thoughts collide till he is thinking
Everything but nothing.
It had happened before at times,
Once when he was standing at the queue in the checkout at the supermarket,
Once when he was tightening up a bolt beneath the hood of a car,
And once on the dance floor in a night-club, and he couldn’t explain,
How he had just felt a sudden slice of euphoria,
Hearing the silent buzz of the conveyer-belt,
Breathing in the scent of burnt oil,
How staring up at the lights above the dance floor, he saw a piece of dust,
Drifting through the air so clearly, he was sure he could see dust
He can’t explain,
How he feels his soul grow till it is not contained within his body,
Expanding like a balloon at the dinner table,
Till he will surely fill the universe,
How he feels himself floating away from himself,
Leaving his skull,
Like a lucid ghost, rising up within a helium balloon,
Expanding to the far reaches of the galaxy,
The universe, the multi-verse, himself
How he reaches the boundaries of all creation,
And sees it all as an atom,
How he knows now size is perspective,
A trampoline covered in bowling balls, it changes,
How he is now the size of an atom,
How he feels himself expanding still, nonetheless,
Past molecules, and viruses, and bacteria,
And cosmic dust,
And fibres, and fleas,
Till he returns to himself, sitting at the table,
Staring again at the gravy in its little pot.
And the bright green peas.
He can’t tell them,
What he knows now,
Nor what he ever knew,
He can’t tell them
How enlightenment is not an on/off switch.
Not a yes/no answer. Not a true/false question.
How he knows now that enlightenment
comes and it goes.
How he knows that any second,
That balloon might,