Mastery Vs Timidity

     She spoke to me. I wasn't ready for her to and it shocked me into nervous words.
She spoke to me and I knew that there was a void I would have to cross, if I were to understand.
My voice spilled into the expanse and spread outward clumsily, ineffectually, vaping swiftly out of being.
I knew that she would not entertain my apologetic existence.
Beauty does not suffer timid fools. But once entranced I could not turn away. 

As I have always done, I stared from my safe distance. But this time she had spoken to me.

     A beckoning. An invitation.

Could she see something in me that I was not yet aware of? Was there a dormant courage that was within my power to call forth?
Was I not bereft of the strength after all? I am sure she would not have spoken to me otherwise, and of course I would not have recognised her voice.
It was entirely possible that I had simply not allowed myself the chance; the gift of some inherent enormity that had remained silent only because it had not yet received the call. My call. 

So much time shrinking from that which I desire, when there was every chance that the command to summon all the courage I would ever require had been silent at the bottom of my voice, awaiting only my decisive intent. Even at this thought the void suddenly felt less frightening. I stood slowly, deliberately, and watched the majestic darkness courting me from afar. I drew deep of breath and sent a tiny conjuring across the chasm. And I knew she felt me then. She rose and threw herself skyward then down, dangerous and breathtaking, flirting in response. 

But her attention was not long held, and I would have to explore the full extent of my voice if she would take my audience again. Timidity was not welcome here. But for the first time, I felt that I would be.

It Is Yours To Name

     I can't see the future.
It disappears even as I move forward. Though when I think about it, it doesn't feel so much as if I'm moving forward through time - some endless swim, stroking toward an unseen finish line. It feels as if, and seems more likely, that time moves through me. I'm suspended even as I struggle; even as I love. And yet time - existence - churns through my unseen from some kink, some darkness in the road ahead. 

     I have to remind myself, 'Stop swimming'. There's no need to struggle.

The road will carry to you many adventures and other existences. Some will pass you by; some will be delicious, fiery head-ons. Some will slink through some part of you that you didn't even realise was you, and seduce you with sultry, milky sounds and traces will remain, silky laments that stalk your blood and you, still suspended are the only one who will ever know, who will ever be able to name it and decide what it is, and what it means. 

     And yet always, I must remind myself. Stop struggling. Ahead is darkness, but there is colour here too.

Beyond the Air of This World

     I wonder after you, Magic; how long has it been? Time seems now as if it is a far larger entity than you ever were. And denounced, vanquished, I fear that you will not return. I question myself and the bitter air above me - were you ever real, or some fanciful hyper-dream of ignorant youth? Either way, I would welcome you back. Foolish notion or pervasive undercurrent of the everything; it matters not. When the self arises within you, Magic, and is borne upon your endless drift...

...It feels as though the drift has come especially for me; exists exactly because I do. Alas, you are banished, Magic. I solemnly denounced you long ago. I don't know that one returns to you from here.

     Regardless, I send forth an invitation. Into the cells, into the bones; into the bleeding stones of yesteryear and the darting fears of tomorrow. Into the laughter of the nothing and the furnaces of stars. My ghostly arms reach out to you beyond the air of this world; the spectrum of my ghost is now alive in its search for you, Magic.

    I beg you heed my call.

Scent of Sky

     Fleeting; a study in absurdity.

Wipe it all away, like the dust on your coffee table, like the tears in your eyes. There's no need, nothing is important. Not you, not me.

     Blink of an eye,
     Hint of serenity,
     No beginning,
     No end,
     Spectrum of sky,
    Ascending infinity.

Let it stand, let it stay, wipe those tears, lose your way.

     You were not meant to be, but see here you are,
     You climb the crumbling walls then fall from afar.

Let them grow, the forests over cities, let them sprawl, let them thrive.
You were never meant to be, not you, not alive.

     But see here you are,
     The crushing reality,
     Hearts sink,
     Hearts dive.

Glimpse the spectrum, scent of sky;

     Say hello...

Now say goodbye.

The Reflection (And Beyond)

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     She existed without love in the same way you existed with water.

     There was sweet nourishment in the isolation - and a thirst for it when people got too close. It was always others who moved toward her. And it was always her that would retreat.

     But like the water inside of your body, she was unknowingly held firmly within love. Her gaze intent upon the cold stone rising from the earth, oblivious to the truth in plain sight about her.

     Like the mirror on the water, love always tells the truth, but one must break the surface to then explore the depth. Her rigid stance empowered, she would not turn from the stone. But one can only retreat so far, and sometimes we need a shove to break the surface of that truth.

     To move beyond our own reflection;
     To disempower the illusion;
     To find that water now surrounds;
     And love has moved within.

     To find a new world we can explore...

     ...And that within it we can swim.

The Illusion of Illusions

     Have I dived in, or out?

    When what is up is also down it draws the questions out like blood. They seep and run thick with colour. Rich and warm, they are within in me and thrown before me simultaneously. If I can see more than what is here, if I am aware of things beyond, then what of this? If this is not the only reality, where does that place us?

     From here, does one dive in, or out..?

Humane (Is a Dirty Word)

     Our planet - our home - has for humanity always been a battlefield. The only thing that changes is the chameleon of war. From swords to slavery, and drones to nukes. From those we burned at stakes or imprisoned for challenging beliefs. From current day mind control and deliberate distraction from truth and from harmony. From every decision to segregate, from every hierarchy and entitled royal embarrassment and every fearful tirade spewed forth with misguided passion; targeted because perhaps you're a woman or maybe you find pleasure in the man's penis sitting next to you whilst he finds pleasure in yours. When every single government has gone rogue, infested with individuals who grin stupidly at kickbacks from puppet masters, when we live entrenched in an economy driven civilization; when the word 'inhumane' is bandied about to describe humans who have acted atrociously - the very fact that humans have acted so suggests to me that every single act of war (in whichever form it takes) is indeed 'humane'.

     The word humane pertains to how we act as humans. It is not yet entirely a definition of love or compassion or respect or moral high ground, until humans cease their acts of war. At this point the character of humanity is a flimsy and timid thing. Riddled with fear. Quick to anger. Unapologetic for self righteous ideals that openly harm other beings. So happy to hold down the head of the drowning man whilst stockpiling brand name arm floaties. Frighteningly excited by anything that encompasses us versus them.

     The earth is a battlefield. And humanity has made it so.

     We are very humane indeed. We can not be anything but. And what does that encompass? Luckily the earth hasn't given up on us just yet, and invites us perpetually to see that it is not a prerequisite of human existence to be at war, despite the daily invitations. One can sit behind waterfalls, or float in oceans. There are hikes through forests, there are unending definitions of family, there are artists and comedians and musicians and philosophers and there is infinite scope for creation and there is sexuality and there is science and there is us...

     But there is certainly no 'them'.

You (The Second Verse)

    Adorn yourself with nothing more than the knowledge that you ride a planet through the universe. Embellish nothing. Let the forest of your own mind be the plumage that attracts. One question alone is important: What did you come here with? The answer is more astounding still: That what you brought here to this planet that you ride upon, is in fact the very reason you arrived.

You

     It's going to be very confusing. And if you care to think about it, not a great deal will make sense. Time will rush by, though you'll feel as if you're standing still. What's time? Oh, you'll find out once you get there, I promise. Now, there will be many of you. So many in fact, that you won't meet the vast majority of them, even though all of them have the capacity to - and will - affect your life directly. Love will at times become a foreign concept to you, and you will often feel utterly alone. So much so, that even though you all look roughly the same, you will come to believe that you are very separate from them, as if you haven't all come from the same energy in the first place.

     You will absolutely feel alone. 

You will experience a perceived 'shrinking' of your very being, and the energy and the ideas of the others will often overpower you. And though you will feel very small, and very timid, and very unimportant, this shrinking will be your chance from which to grow. To create from your own expanding being, to integrate the energies that you perceive to be essential to your nourishment. And this in turn, will nourish the planet that will hold your being. Remember that no matter how influential the others seem to be (pretend to be), they have often done nothing more than inherit ideas passed down to them. You are not being sent there for that purpose though, I am pleased to say. 

     You will arrive to bring new ideas. 

You are going to shift the energies of a world. You are going to be a dynamic system buster who will not accept meekly what others boldly inform you. None are enlightened. Not for your benefit, anyway. Write that down. Enlightenment can only ever be from the self, for the self. And this is where you shall have your impact. Ah yes you are a quick learner - that is true. You will forget this once you arrive. But I promise you will have a sense of it entrenched deep within you, so stop interrupting me and write it down. 

     You are far more qualified for this role than you will give yourself credit for during your time there. In fact, you will most likely err on the side of doubt and fear. But I tell you, even in those times, you will be positively influencing far more than you can possibly imagine. Your presence alone will stir hearts, will inspire questions and will ignite passion wherever you go. So don't be too hard on yourself in your short time on Earth (I know you won't listen to me on that point, but don't say I didn't try to help you).

     And now we come to it. You're heading in. The start will be a tad confronting I'm afraid. You haven't heard of these phenomena, but there'll be blood, shit, and you'll scream a lot. But everyone else in the room will be crying tears of joy, and they usually clean you up pretty quickly. Goodbye and good luck, and remember: NONE ARE ENLIGHTENED!!

Time. Space. Earth. Humans. Humanity.

You.

...

     ...Welcome back, dear being of the universe, that wasn't so bad, was it? Well of course we only just stopped speaking, I told you time would be a little confusing, did I not? And yes, in the meantime, you have contributed to shifting the energy of a world. You have exerted your innate presence upon paradigms that otherwise would have remained muddied and heavy. And - what? Yes! Of course you can go back in! I was hoping you would ask that. Delicious isn't it? So rich with experience and texture. And time is quite a doozy, takes a few goes to get the hang of it. Oh my, you have a lot of questions don't you - no I am not God. What did I tell you about humans and their ideas - There is no such thing. There is only us. 

     All of us.

The Wish (A Unified Masterpiece)

     It was me who had caused the cataclysm that uprooted the world from its complacent slumber. I had wished for it. Like the tragedy that spurns one man on to greatness in the face of adversity, I felt our home crying out for it. I was crying out for it. 

    Something that would splinter the myriad of misplaced values, shatter the ribcage of hierarchial glut, awaken perception of a dormant and far too eagerly swayed populous, and give rise to a platform of potential. A blank canvas, graced by a sweeping brush of awareness and love. Held firmly by a collective hand where beauty cannot exist unless every single cell has been allowed to embody its absolute empowered being. A canvas that would rightfully remain blank, without the unconditional acceptance of all who hold that brush.

    Is it possible that such a collective might be capable of a unified masterpiece wrought of pure truth? If this is the case, are we not already the inspired vision in the artist's mind, awaiting only the event that releases the full spectrum of the most captivating and necessary artwork that humanity has ever seen?

    And so it was. The turbulence that ensued across our tiny planet ruptured the very core of perception. It shook awake in terrible throes a civilisation so rooted in ignorance, that the greatest opportunity for evolution we had ever seen, was met with wild eyed fear and self indulgent pity. 

    But then we became aware of ourselves. At last. And we saw the perfection in our history. We could see it step by step, and as with all adversity, we became grateful for the challenge. And we saw the world, unadorned before us. And we knew we could begin again. With love.

    It was me who had caused the cataclysm that uprooted the world from its complacent slumber. I had wished for it.

     Maybe we all had.