He says:
Watch your mind rise and fall like the tides
feel your heart chambers merge and burst in magnesium flames of stellar proportions.
See the world outside the window undress itself and dip its toes into the dark crimson grief of the earth,
becoming awash with the torrential rains of an eternal, present Now.
Wake up and adorn yourself with the tasseled crown of the Universe
and the first leaves of spring
and the gaze of downy nestlings, crying with hunger for these new beginnings.
This world is a mystery, and you have come to sing its praises.
You are here to tell an old story anew.
One dreamed up in childhood, then lost, then found again.
From a frothy quantum soup it rises on a chariot made of combshells and black coral,
with trails of seahorse apparitions and bones of lives we left behind
to fertilise our vision with its viscous beauty
to midwife This into existence
to turn our hearts to bison, corn, Taensa
to find our words in spider webs, and knit a temple to our Father Sun.
This story is concerned with Seeing clearly what’s been given
One Universe woven by One fabric
One Eye
that touches all existence
And celebrates Itself in multitudes of voices, limbs and stamens.
One wave of Life, arising for a moment before crashing on the edge of the unmanifest.
To fall back in on itself,
to change its forms.
Tree to resin, resin to amber, amber to necklace worn by goddess Alectrona, daughter of Helios.
“Wake up!”, people of Rhodes, she said.
The forests are burning, our souls are starving.
The children, they refuse to go to school!
Your brothers and sisters are being murdered for standing their rocky ground.
You want to be entertained
but the animals are leaving us, forever.
Take hold of my story with the vestiges of sorrow in your heart
But touch lightly on the world,
we were not made for seriousness, this life is ever-playful.
Practice this love until the lines blend into each other.
Watch it unfold, watch it become a miracle.
The Earth needs the depth of your happiness that stems from your highest value.
Open the door and walk behind your eyes,
see for yourself the ground of Being on which this story rests.
And then, like sons and daughters of the Burning Disc,
Of the giving Earth
Of the silver Moon,
Ride the sunbeam to your dreams, which are mine, which are ours.
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