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Tuesday, 28 October 2014

Realities Without End

Hi dear friends and followers. Today I wish to introduce you to another one of poems, a poem about the realities without end, a short journey into my concept of the infinities. Hope you enjoy it.

Realities Without End

Through endless void, not of darkness but of spiraling colors,

a place where there is no concept of time;

and the mind, or consciousness is part of but not,

of the whirling void all about, with consciousness at it's center;

A place where true reality is never changing,

but in layers like ripples created, when one drops a stone

on the surface of a lake with no shores, no land,

a continuous flow, undulating into infinity itself.

The consciousness has not lived, nor does it die.

No coming or going;

a grain of sand in a sea of sand.

Nothing is gained nor is there loss,

only being.

It isn’t black or white,

malevolent or benevolent;

nor is it in past, present, or future;

it is the one pulse, one beat in infinity.

It is not masculine or feminine,

black or white, not clear or opaque, not sharp or dull;

not dense or light, intelligible or unintelligible.

It is where boundaries cease and dualities merge;

Laws of physics inverted as they are as irrelevant here

as time has no substantial cause and effect,

only irrelevant as infinite space, in no time itself.

Time and distance do not apply, for like space, it has no form.

Nothing stands in your way, because you are the way.

You are part of each part that make the whole.

All about you converges to one then expands again.

Great flames lick at you, but do not consume you.

Massive objects grow and diminish but do not impede.

Its concept lost in the void of consciousness,

that can only know it is, and not when or where;

without the concept of time and distance, all is here,

and all is there at the same time

in the shades of light and dark.

Great walls of dust you enter;

a form begins to shape around you

as you fall into the darkness below.

Below? What is below?

Below is under.

Memories return

as you feel the building pressure around you,

and as you glow cherry red, the shell around you shatters

in a loud explosion and falls to the ground below,

in a million smoldering shards scattered over a field.

What is around you is different from whence you came.

There was distance, space and proportions

within a given area, which is a byproduct of time.

There was movement, constant movement,

but in a restricted manner, unlike where all was all,

and now is what is, what it is, a space within space,

where dust became light, and light is the absence of dark.

A place where there was a pattern governed by laws;

the law of light was love and the dark was the opposite.

Within the spark of love is the essence of love.

The dust falls, and through the light life is born.

Life is the essence of love.

This process is repeated on myriads of other worlds,

layers upon layers of worlds,

like multiple ripples on a pond when on a rainy day;

ripples within ripples.

Brilliant sparks afloat in a void of darkness;

a planet breaths and new life is born.

Be still and quiet the mind, and you may truly see

you don't own it, you only occupy part of it.

Love is no slave to anyone in particular;

It is born of universe and is therefore universal.

Composed by Cynthia ©

Thank you again for dropping in to read my mid week poetry. I hope you have enjoyed. I would appreciate knowing what your thoughts are on this topic. Thank you and have a wonderful week.

ڰۣIn Loving Light from the Fairy Ladyڰۣ

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