awakening

I simply sank into the first conclusion...

Slept like the dead, for days. Weeks.

Years.

Like the soil. Totally immovable.
Entombed in the womb of time.

I sank deep.  Falling.

Forgotten...

I haven't lifted my eyelids in a lifetime.
And I'm down to my last dream.

Amaranth, the immortal, sings the song of awakening.

[Awakening (2010), by Lilyana Millutin]

Love-Lies-Bleeding Amaranth

Immortal Amarant, a Flour which once
In Paradise, fast by the Tree of Life
Began to bloom, but soon for mans offence
To Heav'n remov'd where first it grew, there grows,
And flours aloft shading the Fount of Life,
And where the river of Bliss through midst of
Heavn Rowls o're Elisian Flours her Amber stream;
With these that never fade the Spirits elect
Bind thir resplendent locks inwreath'd with beams...

[Paradise Lost (1667), iii. 353: by John Milton]
. 

present

Time stretches in two directions, and in this moment it ties into a knot of possibilities.

This moment is eternity, because when we touch it we see what lies ahead and what behind … And the cycle starts anew, since everything, except this moment, then becomes unimportant.

Tomorrow will always remain just out of reach, perpetually ahead of me. While yesterday, like a shadow follows me – a memory of some other 'I'.

Now is a present, a gift of a moment that is eternity.

.

in veritas

“To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower.
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.”
  

WILLIAM BLAKE, “Auguries of Innocence”

My visions became my life, rather than the other way around. They whispered the secret of ages. I wrote not so much what I was experiencing, but what I was remembering — what I forever knew.


“Know ye not that ye are gods!?”

I am a messenger. I am here on behalf of the error of my past, serving out of duty, not pride. I serve the One I am.

I wonder if there has ever been anyone who has stood at the top of a very high mountain, with the endless horizon marking the border between this visual reality and the unseen of their imagination, who has then been able to return to the banality of life?

Once I had seen the whole, the detail no longer contained sufficient sustenance to keep my attention, my happiness, my self at that level.

The need to step away and take in the wholeness of my existence overpowered even my basic needs, for food, for shelter, clothing and even, human company. The aloneness was intoxicating. It was as if my consciousness had attached itself to the virtual horizon and all my attempts at focusing on everyday were thwarted by a constant pull ‘out’, the need to see ever more. The need to see all.

“…as the light of day births colors into being, then shall I came to you, a boundless drop to a boundless ocean…”

If all things return to the One, where does the One return to? …

Ω