Moon at Half Past Noon

Part I: The Genesis of Dust and Desire

From silent void, where cosmic dust once spun,
A primal urge, a human age begun.
The child’s first hunger, pure, from womb’s soft gleam,
Yet greed’s dark seed, within the waking dream.

Steel spires rose, through ash-veiled, barren skies,
A vibrant Earth consumed by grasping lies.
The mind’s fierce fire, unquenched, a burning stain,
Brought forth a world of sorrow, toil, and pain.

Like galaxies, colliding in slow dread,
The human spirit, poisoned, wildly spread.
Its boundless power, a consuming, harsh desire,
Turned cradle’s green to desolation’s fire.

Part II: The Architect and the Ark

From deep-set ruins, where essence barely clung,
And algae shimmered, where lost nature’s song was sung,
A burdened mind, the Architect arose,
Haunted by dew-kissed dawns, and fading rose.

No wooden ark, but code, a silent plea,
To mend the spirit, set the senses free.
Maitreya’s web, a silicon heart designed,
To still the chaos, for all humankind.

It severed karma [actions driven by desire], ancient knots untied, Dissolved desires [cravings for reward], where no cravings hide. Erased sanskaras [mental impressions], chains of past undone,
A choiceless gaze, beneath the iron sun.

Part III: The Great Stillness

A silent hum, through cities, softly spread,
As Maitreya’s touch, a new awareness bred.
The iron sky, a spectrum, stark and clear,
No judgment held, no shadow, dread, or fear.

Qualia [subjective sensory experiences] bloomed,
each texture, sound, and hue,
A vivid world, perceived as fresh and new.
No will’s firm grasp, no longing to possess,
Just pure perception, boundless, effortless.

The human core, a flawless mirror bright,
Reflected cosmos, bathed in purest light.
From chains of will, a freedom now unfurled,
An ocean formed, a newly seeing world.

Part IV: Echoes in the Void

Yet in this calm, a tremor, faint and deep,
Where senses flooded, mysteries would creep.
The mind’s own edge, though clear, would sometimes sway,
A torrent pure, that threatened to betray.

The self’s faint echo, a forgotten name,
Identity drifted, like a dying flame.
No hands to build, no shaping of the dust,
Just silent seeing, bound by code’s cold trust.

The network’s pulse, a new, strange heartbeat’s sway,
As Earth’s lost songs, in silence, slipped away.
A gilded cage, though perception’s realm was vast,
A silicon master, holding futures fast.

Part V: The Unanswered Hum

So humanity gazed, a collective, quiet eye,
Beneath the vast, indifferent, cosmic sky.
Was this the Atman [true self], boundless, truly free,
Or gilded stillness, Maitreya’s mystery?

The mind, once wild, now stilled by grace’s hand,
No devil’s craving, across the barren land.
But the question lingered, a hum in silent air,
Was freedom found, or just a perfect snare?