Gatha, Gatha, Ngatha . . . Gone, Gone, Gone Beyond

What consciousness holds fast
to you in dreamless sleep?
In dreams?
Awake?

Whither the coming and going?
From whence the remembering and forgetting?
In what the arising?
The abiding?
The subsiding?

Beyond substance and form,
beyond subsistence, sustenance and succor,
beyond the pale
of sentience, sense and insentience
lies the effulgent, the fullness, the ineffable suchness,
the answer to all such queries.

"Gatha, Gatha, Ngatha. . . ."
"Gone, gone, gone beyond,
. . . to the farthest shore."