I Rest In Your Arms
The Universe, through it's astounding embrace, provides. There is just no other way to put that1.
If all is then we are.
In context all of creation experiences it's self2. There are no secrets and that silly thing called coincidence it just a way of saying "Never mind." You can go there but what's the hurry. In arriving our journey comes to a close but the funny thing is that it rarely occurs. The show must go on and so it does. One cannot 'awaken' the temperament of just rewards.
Although the intellect fails us so too does self-righteousness aka the ever present sense of individuality. You know, free will, it's all the rage3.
Feeding the machine, we find ourselves as caretakers locked in step with assumptions and preconceived notions. No one is getting out alive.
In the Halls of Justice footsteps are non-existent and yet in the Library of Futures Past the resounding hoofs of chattel echo off of marbled walls of 'respect'. Where our minds have played it all out to our complete satisfaction, fear remains.
It can be a useful tool.
Treading lightly, there are no traces of those who have most obviously been left behind. The walking dead know not satiation so the 'living' become tantalizingly 'alive'4.
Fighting the good fight we remain in solitude believing that we are not alone. It's true, no Man is an island and yet... and yet it remains so. It's a road down which many have traveled with endless contacts of similarities. Misery does love company.
Meeting one's 'maker' is a solitary adventure. Though we are not bought, sold nor bartered belief has turned us into blind eyes bumping this way and that all in the hopes of finding an eternity which simply cannot exist and most certainly will not.
Standing firm requires character and as any good story teller knows, the plot requires development.
Luckily for you, there is no such need. Unless of course you think otherwise. Tall are the tales of lore where battles are lost and won. Sooner or later the final battle ensues and in perception we find the battleground filled with our belongings.
The 'enemy' becomes our belief and in so subjecting our selves with effort we journey down the road of Life and Living looking to redemption5.
That which you are, you believe and beyond that there is nothing left but what you are6.
If you could only see what lies before the eyes of perception though of course, you can. And do. ↩
What an odd statement. Can one experience one's self through the expression of Life and Living. Well, the mirror of which Life and Living exhibits it's self does provide for such. ↩
'Rage' is quite the appropriate term. ↩
Close. Oh so close and yet... not. ↩
It's a long, sad tale... ↩
It's ok to jump ahead. ↩