Sat Nam Wahe Guru,
The words are flowing before I can even get them off my chest. They jump on the page like musicians on a stage. I am here to remember my name and to identify my identity beyond the limits of space and time. I am awake! I am all around. I am the light of the divine in the inner recesses of the mind. I am the hope and the light in the darkest night. When men and women have fallen I am the sign that helps them rise. I am the tree and the bird. I am the meadow and the scarecrow. I am the word made manifest in the flesh.
Taste all the splendor, drink in the nectar, devour each other and never ask for another. Let your heart spin around, let your feet rise above the ground, only to find that you are the sound of the laughter and the crying. You are liquid light melting off the wings of a dove in flight. You are spinning and spinning in circles that become perfect spirals. You are quietly awaiting the ringing of alarms that never go off. You are hoping to see the morning with the same eyes you had when you went to bed. This is not possible since your eyes are born again. The cells in your eyes are different every day. Your iris merely reflects and absorbs the light that is received and then sends it to its destination within the brain. The movie is viewed and the actors are all dressed in robes of light and color. They are created within the mind and give rise to the illusion of the play. The heart is the theatre of the queen. The queen knows that entire drama is all in her mind and she still enjoys the show. She is enthralled with her own performance. She is in rapturous moods as she quotes her own lines aloud and with a sigh she allows the weight of the moment to be released. She takes her place among the stars and the clouds, she is faint and passes quickly.
“How many are we?” she inquires.
“We are far more than one can count.”
“Where are we going?”
“There is only one way to find out.”
When the dance has begun it is impolite to remain seated. Similarly, it is impossible to stop the dance before it is through. The dancing shall continue. The music is the jostling of the leaves in the wind. Harmonies and melodies are being born every second. As one world is coming to an end another is being born. These types of thoughts are lofty and grand. Who is among the many who never understand why the songs of the sirens are never sung to sleeping sailors?
So many metaphors to open up the chambers. Language unlocks every door but it cannot force you to open them. There are passageways to other realms and stairways to other hells. I’d prefer to skip that route and take a course that’s tried and true. I will wander all around, guided by the morning sound. Looking out upon such fate I see this world as the Guru’s gate. Please carry this, I can not hold it any longer. I have no other hope or faith but to place my trust in the one spirit is the ultimate test of one’s life. Promises are worthless unless their held in sacred space. Promises are calls that can be returned or they can remain unanswered. They are the flames of the sparking fire. They are messages that must be sent. They are communications of human intent. You can take them lightly or you can take them slow, either way some promises can never go.
