How is that we find ourselves in this odd predicament, conceived onto a material plane, driving our conscious vehicle through a vastly small and specific construct? It is a position of immense privilege, in which we are capable of an extraordinary sort of magic that we mostly take for granted. We sense that beyond these particular circumstances there is more, leading higher, to who-knows-where, and that we are part of the unfolding of an unfathomable becoming.
But for now, you are a holder of being. The be-holder is you!
lyrics
The Fact of being,
The palette of feeling,
The will to action,
Compassion, expansion,
The edifice of impenetrable logic,
The psychic realms of stars,
Bathing in fountains of infinite creation:
This is the mortal conversation.
----
Under the everloving influence
Of ancient patterns and sounds,
The tones of bones,
The colors of the iris,
Silken threads of futile memory;
Time loses interest,
That through which we broke at conception,
Expanding toward the second membrane.
----
It may be days away,
The dying.
It may be days away,
Awakening from this sensorial dream.
----
It won't be far away,
The living.
It won't be far away,
Back to the moment's infinite seam
----
You always knew
What the be-holder is able to do.
You always knew
That you make the most beautiful magic.
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