I'm feeling the deep truth of my being nothing, as a space I am most at home within....
whereby here is the witness
with no reference, no compass, no mind
observing nothing at all
occasionally . . . [though what is here to measure occasion?]
waving in and out of phases of everything
and here in the exquisite tautness that comes from being strung between both
I am the dancer
dancing 'I' dent eye phi across infinite domains ...
scent i ents … here
Who is the curious child here who wonders, 'who or what breathes for 'me' when I am not . . . ?'
Dreaming....he asked if I felt I was to be with him…I replied, I am a single, infinite thread containing all potentiality, and I weave, and am woven, where there is none to see, except The One...
Yet who am I, you, we? Surely no one and everyone . . .
As I am nothing in truth but the fragrance of pure being... who is actually here to observe? Who is the beloved who breathes everything I am, and am not, into being, whilst I am... knot . . . i dent i tie...
But the unspeakable vastness itself.
Gazing into the eyes of infinite self in another self in the manifest world of form. . . where does the dancer go in the beingness of dancing and danced? Where the One Sea (Seer) rises and falls in awareness within both beings....merging sea and light upon waves
See sawing... alternating between whom is captaining the ship, with hands upon the star wheel, and breathing in the lighthouse, as One rises and the 'other' One falls through the fathomless abyss of no thing....
Monumental waves of divine ecstasy sear new constellations lighting the way in aching flesh . . .
Surrendering I trust the Beloved to breath for me whilst I can not,
and in sublime synergy I hold utmost and sacred vigilance in turn breathing for 'he' who is 'not', for the time that 'I am so' . . . .
