The mystery of experience hides knowledge.
The experience is the only provable existence.
Thus, it is the foundation upon which all truths can be built.
The experience renders an ego,
the seeming sense of self inside flesh.
The flesh is made of matter and the flesh
resides in dead flesh, namely the dust.
The flesh is dust, the dust is dead, thus
the flesh is dead.
You can cut off your arm and your experience exists.
Thus, your arm is not living nor is any of your flesh.
Your body is death but you are alive.
Your body is neither dead nor living,
and it is both. The distinction is vanity.
Life is the experience and the experience is life.
All else is dead.
In all its mystery, flesh is as hidden as a river.
The parts of these things interact by dust.
Thus, it is false to make difference of living flesh, and dead flesh.
Both are dust.
A stone is living as much as your arm.
Pick up a stone and throw it.
Yet, you are alive.
Cut off your arm, and throw it away.
Yet, you are alive. Yea, all is dust.
Your intellect could be living if it weren’t made of death.
Your intellect is another river and the river is dead, yet your intellect renders life.
Is it the arrangement of dust that makes the experience?
This is the mystery.