What I do, is pretty - irrelevant.
That I do is, oh so - important!
Am I just a blip on a divine screen
or embodiment of a divine beam?

What I think is conditioning of kind,
I am built on the illusion of my mind
That I think is evolution,
pure intellect chose me for it's elocution

What I want roots in desire,
my greed wants to fly for ever higher
That I want is divine pulsation
driving me back to source and salvation

What? Lets me choose, puts me in charge;
That is a river, I am the barge
Two views, one leap
Busting the rules, there is nothing to keep
Floating on That, all support is mine
Forever trusting the Divine.

How can I trust the unseen shore?
Ah, my Guru was there before!
My Guru before and behind me,
My Guru above and inside me!

"What" refers to the play,
Like a child molding clay
Its hands make a ball, then a cat
What now? Look, it makes a rat.
It makes a tiger; than a pot
Then all is squashed, letting it rot.
Yet then again, it shapes a star,
What is the play; be it near or far!
What refers to ever-shifting ground,
"That" is rest, where peace can be found.

How can I trust this unseen core?
Ah, my Guru was there before!
My Guru before me and behind me,
My Guru above and inside me!