Isn't it funny how we can easily lose ourselves amongst the objects of the world?
Silk thread sown into our rounded sleep;
lullabies that hold us down from spreading our wings.
Remove your mask and expose your SELF to me!
Make me wonder again, bringing the question of innocence into daylight!
So long it has been, locked away and pounding at the doors of faith.
Silence.
Breathe the space that we are and scare me with truth!
My eyelids become heavy as I gaze into the whispering stream.
The knowledge it holds brings tears to my eyes.
I can see you now, with your mask removed and it makes me cry.
I love those eyes beneath your soul.
Now let us evaporate into space with endless laughter of the suffering we cut ties from.
These roads that blanket themselves across the world. Interconnecting with everything. The light inside. I can feel the heaviness of snow to come within the clouds. The trees dance naked in the wind with daydreams of summers kiss. This battle of Winter and Summer. The sun and moon making love. This battle reflects in my soul. This vessel I hold my self within is filled with light almost entirely but there is a dark house holding dark energy. A cluster of the past unable to exit at this moment. We are so completely one with nature.
Get your third eye poked.
How does our soul sing?
Through energy.
Through music.
Music: breathing of statues. Perhaps:
silence of paintings. You language where all language
ends. You time
standing vertical on the motion of mortal hearts.
Feelings for whom? O you the transformation
of feelings into what?----: into audible landscape.
You stranger: music. You heart-space
grown out of us. The deepest space in us,
which, rising above us, forces its way out,____
holy departure:
then the innermost point in us stands
outside, as the most practice distance, as the other
side of the air:
pure.
boundless,
no longer habitable.
Brothers
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