The Multiverse’s Tool

What is it within you that pulls, ever pulls, inexorably guiding toward some inscrutable outcome, that sets heart afire, steers life among paths, branching infinitely yet brilliantly lit by one, shining destination? Who lit the fire that inspires, releasing aspirations of potentiality unbound branching heavenwards, lightning-tongued whips of flame questing high like birds, the byproduct of alpha-wave conditioning, on the verge of total neural-network de-partitioning, synthetic holism realized, third eye, shining bright.  

It seems obscene to dream of such things. Opposition in full disarray, the battle stalls on multidimensional fronts, legions of angels and demons pray while humans slay each other like cattle, the wars between the gods providing context and the stall for us all. Dreaming wanderers ponder the mystery of the ages but the bills need to be paid, the children’s way lightened, examples provided in a changing world of ceaseless instability, as destiny unfurls and the nobility of soul shine amidst the bones of humanity’s savagery. The ability of human kindness to outweigh the depredations of the day lies in heart resonation, peace and prosperity the evidence of an enlightened nation coming into it own fruition.

As Gaia herself groans beneath our weight, consumption ever on the plate, gluttony and greed are the seeds of utter destruction sown, grown to monstrous size, behemoths stalk the earth rending nations beneath their talons, stations of sanity flourish as humanity’s vanity salts the soil while the waters and the air boil. Ruminations continuously coursing, flourishing discourses of force, grumbling uprisings of seismic proportions rumble forth, then … rebirth.

The start of a new day. The deepest contemplative forces reveal the void.On the cusp of despair and joy death is deployed, scythe fixed in place, his thousand-yard-stare a glare of utter disdain, the harbinger of pain, darkness and light combined. Dark night of the Soul, fetal ruminations untold rise to the surface unfold as dreams and nightmares, personality patterning, spatterings of psychic detritus fly by us.

The bias of many heart-centered the horn of plenty resounds across clouds of bounty, shining stars of destiny’s unfoldment beam down. Frowns turn to smiles, night to day the interplay of chaos and order displayed as leviathan’s rage desolates the stage. 

Is there a better way? As many as the stars scattered afar, guiding forces of impenetrable inscrutability, infinite creations, universes, the mind of God beheld. The angels fell to hell to be like us, collectivities of consciousness, progressively higher dimensional equations of zero-point oblation.

How do you share this with others? What is this, burning down deep in the soul desire, no fire of questing intensity, this imperative to seek, to know, to throw fortune and future to the wind on a whim, the fool.

The Multiverse’s tool.

Forever young in spirit and soul, boldly facing demonic stations of the cross, tossed by fate and whimsy upon the wind as the world batters about and shouts of elation and fear portend the End.

Then the Beginning.

Infinite, eternal, spinning vortices of intentionality burble quantum fluctuations of potentiality into existence, pulling, insistent. Hypnotic spirals gone viral, the centers yawning down and up into the iris of God’s eye, paradox implied, truth undeniably pliant and presented to the societally-determined demented. The Awakened, those tasked upon levels of knowledge and understanding slaked. Coursing with a tide unquenched, forcing minds wide with wonder, the plunder of the Akashic realized.Third eye, shining bright. 

Song_of_Shambhala-

Canocanayestatetlo

Here comes, the rain.

Karst topographies part waters that flow through carboniferous daughters who long ago wooed husbands of flame, seeking the same seed that life breeds, the marriage of oppositions portending the same, hydrostatically charged masses of liquid immerse metamorphic birthings of outcroppings that drip stalactites across speleothemic forests the ancient lore confirmed by astronomical dates confirming the highest of fates. 

Bursting, rising, spiraling through flowering branchings of rock, limestone passages stocked with vibrant life, the building blocks of creation present abounding formations crowning haloed by whirling clouds of light, brightly speckled orbs of reflected sight cycling endlessly with the darkness of silent night.

River wild, joyous fountain of spirit burst free unconfined, refined through storied histories bubbling, frothing sprays of jubilant song quantum strong entangled quasars and quarks approach the fork in the road and carry their load both ways, subtly ethereal rays permeate the harmonious abode, God strode through brilliant hallways of light, benighted humanity a brooding thought, encompassing the totality of all that the multiverse taught.

Cascading bubbles of foam, the gloaming beckons souls home, crystalline clarity entwined molecules colliding polarity uniting, spiraling exciting bursts of freedom in light, sinuous might of a river enshrined by God’s sight chosen, sacred waters whirl, swirl with the intent of creation, water spirits demand oblations, claiming divine right decrying humanity’s plight.

Who is awakened, tonight? The river calls, her ponderous flow so slow, while banks grow, supplicants row over ancestors below, while crows scream recriminations regarding dreams of murdered nations, of college stations perched precariously atop remnants of a sacred sea through which ancient batholiths emerged, withstanding the surge of time sublime records of endless creation entombed in bone.

The earth mother grumbles, her irresistible urge to purge, turn inside out no doubts rising to compete her need to witness her seeds grown to fruition an intuition of alchemical fission, the perdition of human-centric conceptions of progress and growth, civilization and technology, hubris betrothed to rubrics of paradigmatic constriction masked as truth, the proffered proof prideful and aloof, ponderously remorseless revolutions of soul.

Sacred spirits of lyirical wonder, soaring above still waters the thunder of time refined through space, the falls of grace fill the lagoon of hope with all the tropes of spirit, aspirations and desires, afire with the burning need to be, of creation freed, eternal spirals gone viral in the cauldron of human greed and belief. 

Placid, her grace. Stately, her pace across space, chuckling to herself sublimie mysteries of life, her depthless void a sanctuary beyond strife, beyond pain. 

Here comes, the rain.