the mind awakens at 4am

the mind awakens at 4am, there is no light no sound but the insects, power is off, air still and slightly cool, moist. the body feels aged, lack of sleep, exercise, daily nourishment, what is yesterday continues without a break. i remember midnight coming and going, the minutes scuttling by like a beetle investigating the soil and finding nothing, continuing forever. the thinking process has no starting point, darkness, temperature, emptiness abound, nothing disturbs the slow expansion into the world and what is beyond. this is death and awakening, the bardo journeys, the unmastered self succumbs to the lure of ending in the body and listens for its own voice, hearing nothing  releases and removes the last binding cord of devotion and remains still.i pray to the gods of what is left after good and bad, the twins of love and hate and endless acceptance. imagining the best i look into the silence and note that it remains, there is no passage no fruitless ending, but more and more of what has been returning. life the being, the reason for waking up, the i am-ing self, still responds like a billy club to the heart, there is something i want so get up. but theres nothing here, the world, the morning, the idea of becoming again that which is a relic of myself, the past replayed until what, nothing remains but the spindly notion that i exist and even that stands on matchbox legs and cannot speak, the hair and eyesight gone, the foot a stub of wood,no motivator, no prodding silence can endure but i remain and the silence draws me out like blood from a vein into the air still smelling of my ancient body exuding presence and particles of skin all that remains of the empty self that shuffles from this bed. the harness is thrust upon these shoulders squared as the volcano erupts and another pyramid must rise to endure yet another million sunrises before this kaliyuga can finally end.