Prose

The Palace of the King

Everything is a living symbol of that one Single Reality, the Reality of the Translucent Heart, totally engulfed in Light.  No division, no duality, just radiating presence; infinite, loving, creative and intelligent.  iT.

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The Message: Fragment One

It is all converging.  I can see it, swimming all around me, a sea of energy growing.  This convergence is an emergence, it is a birthing.  The veils are coming down as we begin to stare behind the world.  The liquid screen of the digital feeds us into eternity, perceptual machinations swirling with the luminescence of Mind.

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Angel of Silence

Mimicking moves slide across my chest; translucent lights flicker in and out of the eye at my heart, visions that cascade across my bittersweet tenderness. This longing becomes unbearable as a fire licks up my soul and whisks it off on wings of troubled faith; unable to let go, yet destined to be pulled up.

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Prologue to Infection

Surrender.  Surrender to this force; learning how to let go and give in to this pulsing life, this intelligence, this presence.  Surrender to the pains; surrender to this heart- this is all there is, all there was, all there ever will be.  This heart is the connection to the Infinite.

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Symphony of the Pied Piper

Come with me, dear Children, leave behind this empty world of commodity and consumerism, of empty promises and shattered dreams- the cold sterile world of iron and machines. I beckon you into a new World- a new Earth, a New Law, a Law for All, a world where the Word is alive and well, where flesh and dream intertwine, where desire runs cleanly and clearly from the source of all being.

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Streams of Me

Words to the wise, logos rides the tides of mind. Millstones turn to grind this seasons out of time, for those up high are cast on low, and with the Eye in the sky we make men blind. 

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The Chariot

Words drift aimlessly, unaccounted for throughout the ages of my Mind. They are silence amidst the immensities of space. They pass like clouds over the landscape, casting patterns over the fields and forests. Life sees no language, but rather is the Word made flesh, pulsing to the rhythm of the harmonies that give rise to this prose.

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Insertion Point Imminent

There is a pulse and a flicker. Transmission is imminent. There is some energy rich beam that is filling me with information. Inspiration fills my mind, as some mercurial fluid poured into my skull. The moment meshes with eternity, and I write. There is no present but the content of the writing, and fields of connections creep outwards from my hands.

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Sun Skreech

Whisps of words whisper ease and with the shift from on my knees I stand and cry from a millions words and in the sigh of tree’s upon my mother’s lips I lie in wait for the dreams to caress the streams of me’s...

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Conspiracy of One

Information overload. Mutation rate is accelerating; break away point is drawing nearer. Larval consciousness is breaking down. Self identity is based upon information received from the perceptual mechanisms; information is the accumulation of greater degrees of complexity and interrelationship, an unfolding of interconnection. 

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