Authenticity, vulnerability, awareness & growth through storytelling, sharing of personal experiences, and knowledge on spiritual matters.
The Eternal Present
So, why doesn’t it feel like a gift?
the Eternal is yours alone
your unique way of experiencing life, no one else’s
we are all like you
except for the exact space and time when you came into this world
on a template of eternal emptiness that is our very own Universe
we won’t find a rose-colored Christmas gift
between each moment
when we think there are things going on
and people around
we are left alone to deal —
devoid of time and space
lonely, yearning
hovering in our essence
when and where your life in this world began
is the essence you borrowed from yourself
to bear your pink skin
you were barely a molecule
when you convinced your parents to choose you
like it did with them
this world invited itself into you too
at its fullest depth
we find belonging with our core selves
swimming ever outward
coding the Universe we have yet to live
as our breath flows in and out of our lungs
so each and every wave is an ocean’s Presence
the peak is always
becoming the wave’s nadir —
all to float away
evaporated by the blowing wind
or the heating sun
like gas is limited by available space
minds reach out into the emptiness of creation
all experiences, events, beings
have their own unique space and time
as they squeeze into a single moment
my first cell squeezes its middle
lengthens beyond its limits
hears its own screams of pain at the fear
of separating from the unknown thing
yet to be born
feeling a terrifying nothingness
choked, insignificant
squashed and stretched from every angle
threatening to snap
feeling this
everything and nothing
however tragic
is illusion
stretched between extremes
splitting, bitterly, begging for help
clinging to a crushing belief in being
as massive as everyone else’s Universe
then, in an instant that lasts forever
but not yet becoming unimaginably huge
life focuses itself
into the core of all being
attaches itself
to sinews underneath flakes of skin
recognizable faces appear
welcoming, curious, and calling their way
the stretch needs to go
completely overcome
full of myself and every other being in existence
time kicks back into
the infinitesimally small
opposite the infinite years of
everything containing us
ever waiting for the next moment
we are tempted
becoming impatient
to take on the flow too fast
painfully, blissfully
one saved with an other
duality collapses into a little Mercury
a planet, a god, a communicator
a way of fusing opposites
a mirror looks
forever reflecting
through a crooked crack
in the presence of the largest container beyond Self
uniqueness dissolves
only the finest slice of existence remains
where self truly belongs
in its own reflection
in unity with infinite beings
who think they are real
in a mystical presence
containing all beings
simply reflecting each other into eternal existence
as soon as one thinks or feels or senses
something real comes to life
but the only thing real is my own reflection
adding to an eternal collection of reflections
vigorously pulling, stretching, swiping away the skin of belief
that things are as I think them to be
it isn’t possible, NO!
incredible to feel such intense intimacy
while losing myself to you
stretched to the terror of non-existence
such tender touch blending
so deep a compassion
even the ocean’s waves cannot feel
maybe the stars can —
but only minds
blending in elastic
flowing as it tears
weeping as it clears
laughing at it all
fortunately or not
bodies cannot live in this space
endlessly thick with spirited mind
as bodies are left behind
absorbed into one being ongoing forever
as all bodies die
the edge of Universal prison beckons
far from that embodied place
where we see our
left over bits and pieces
a vain hope to return musters
however small or large we may feel
whenever we are
we play our role in whatever remains
clinging to what we
buy, beg, borrow, or steal
and all we create
separating ourselves one last time
grasping, scraping—
as hard as we can scratch our little piece of belonging
a piece that belongs not to anyone
where only ecstasy abides
streams of tears flow into an ocean of screaming passion
touching forbidden skin
rapture unfolds
interminable surprise —
we were wrong all along
and we cannot bear it
one spark
trembles through wet lips
pink cheeks cushion hilarious tears
a cocoon cracks
a drop of hate becomes
an ocean of love
delicate wings
fly through the heat of stars
unimaginable suffering melts
whatever “we” are surrenders to
an ever-present Gift fusing with the
One Eternally Reflected Self
as our separation ends forever
clinging fully dissolves
in the dark vacuum of being
a tiny love-gasp whispers
