In a sweet abode beneath the surface, of all illusions,

There lies my beloved

My beloved, oh such pleasure, the words so easy to utter

A melody of infinite beauty lies there in the remembrance

What great wonder to be here in the embrace of the immaculate light

She knows no boundaries and formless is her nature.

Free from the multiplicities of the phenomenal, she marinates in her own perfection.

How lovely even the thought of her is, even though the thought may never reveal her boundless grace.

The eyes have been blinded and cleansed of impurities, she only reveals herself in the hearts of the graceful. I have no words to utter; all notions of past, present and future have been dissipated and replaced by the eternal presence of the one spirit.

evening-landscape-bridge-stars

In my searching, I have lost the seeker, but been found by the one dwelling in the higher eternal realm. In fact she is neither higher nor lower, she is all in the same directions of space and time. You cannot define that which is always as it is, untouched by change and free from disturbances. Her grace is timeless and her beauty wordless. No utterances of the human mouth have ever been close to revealing her unspeakable wonder. Oh what a mystery it is, to be seen and to see all things with one sight. My vision has been cleared of all.

Even though it is unspeakable, yet still there is a thirst for meaning. Poetry comes closer then other endeavours of revealing the immaculate perfection of the invisible virgin spirit. Poetry speaks and sings to the inner depths of the heart, in order to waken up the slumbering longing for the vastness of the one. The one is so subtle, every time an attempt is made to find her, the veil grows thicker and stronger. There is only one way to find the beloved, and that is to present yourself naked to her crystal sight, in that she finds herself and you are no more. You are no more, yet you are bestowed with eternal life.

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"And I say to any man or woman, Let your soul stand cool and composed before a million universes."
Walt Whitman 
in Leaves of Grass (1855)

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