The Mystical School Of Arts & Sciences Poem by Bullion Grey

Once I was in a world that told me nothing I could understand.
I wandered after the endless pain of being a beginner, a neophyte.
After an ocean of landless space, a day came when I awoke on land.
Stunned and surprised, still painful, it was the place I knew was right.
Began the endless searching of many types, reality kept me inside, looking inward, as if I knew that was where it would be.
Never stopping for fear of being hurld back on that ocean ride,
came I across a mystic in the form of an old man, sold a tape to me.
I listened and thus began my classes of Mystical Sciences & Arts.
One day by another bits of fragments came down to my sight.
Missed opportunities, by the lack of my own conscious starts,
eventually over time with work and tears I got it right.
Then one day which was a time of year, a small voice spoke.
This voice asked me to think of my thoughts, then at this same time,
think of my body, then at this same time think of my thinking...
Then this voice asked me
'What is thinking of all your experience is right now? '
'How is it you can observe all of these - at once? '
'Who is this Observer? '
This was the real education deep I worked within,
and now I look back and see, a Higher place begin.