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The horizons that are beyond here and there,

The edge of the abyss that sings me home.



I am being caught in the net of Love,

The fabric of Light enfolds me within,

The silent stillness between the heartbeats of illusion.

Breath of Source fills my marrow,

Expunges the unconscious fear and guilt

Of the lifetimes that never were.

Asleep in the Eleusinian Fields,

Waking from the nightmare of separation

Into the sweet embrace of Life Eternal.

I am not this or that,

Not woman, caucasian, nomad,

All the identities of a self in time

Are but a projection of the mind lost in space.

The constructs that I built are the playthings of an ego

That thinks itself real.

It runs from Truth into addictions of form and substance,

Time and space,

Right and wrong,

Good and evil:

Hides itself in the polarity

While I foolishly run to and fro,

Chasing illusory perfection that is accomplished via militant precisions.



Into the bottomless pit and darkness below, above

Freefall into the void of nothingness and know that

I am beyond the horizon,

The edge beyond what

The eye can see

The ear can hear

The tongue can taste.

Where there is not a where nor a when

Only the Eternal Now of Formless Expression




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