My Search

My Search

 by Klaus Kommoss 2004

There was so much searching,

and there was finding.

Oh, what a miracle it always is.

But what I found was not what I was searching.

What I found was what I never thought of to search for.

So searching never really worked at all.

It is like the multiple-choice test:

Is this true or that true?

Excluding the billion other options.

It’s like when you search with your eyes.

You merely find what’s visible.

You cannot see smells.

Search doesn’t lead to finding what things are,

it leads to finding what things are not.

And, the longer I live, that’s what I find.

I found that happiness is not at all desire fulfilled,

that love is not what you think when you love,

that fear is not a good armor,

that luck is not really an accident.

The more I found what things are not,

the more I saw the mind

chasing its own tail,

searching what it has invented itself.

But then, wasn’t it “I”

who never found what things really are?

And didn’t I also find what “I” am not?

The ultimate mirage !

The greatest discovery of all !

And all the searching and finding,

didn’t it really have a life of its own,

without me,

and nothing was missing?

It’s the mind that is searching.

I only watch.

By searching one may find where the mind cannot go.

To leave it at that

is an end of the searching,

but it can be the beginning of knowing.

Knowing the mystery.


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1 Response to My Search

  1. Mary Holden says:

    This poem is a masterpiece. Thank you.

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