Dreaming the Universe

I dreamed that all the world, all the universe sat within an infinite sphere. I flew to the very edges of creation so that I could comprehend that which surrounds everything. I saw millions upon millions of radiant gem stones set into it’s sparkling surface. Each one as rich and deep as an ocean. As I got closer I saw that these gems were actually eyes at the edges of creation looking in upon all that is. A countless multitude of human eyes, insect eyes, fish eyes, animal eyes and eyes as yet unimagined looked into the world from the surface of the sphere. Brand new eyes would flutter open and behold creation for the first time, just as others would dim and close forever. These windows of awareness into the world would rise and fall as death and birth gave substance to each new awareness just as others passed from existence.

Along this surface of infinite eyes I came across my own looking right back at me. I hovered closer and closer until finally I fell into them. I swam through the depths of my self until I came out on the other side. From here the sphere was no more than a singularity… the tiniest of points hovering in a ocean of the brightest light. I opened my entire being into the blank canvas upon which creation is painted. I examined the tiny sphere and looked into the world through millions of little windows, seeing creation through a million unique pairs of eyes, each with a different view, each with a different dream of self. As I awoke I passed back through the window of my eyes and heard a voice whisper “let there be light”.

Awake in the world… I greet the people I encounter and see them looking back at me. I say hello to my dog. I watch a dragonfly navigate the air. I see a goldfish in a tank. In every pair of eyes, all I can see is a glittering wall of gem stones, a deep shiny collection of windows looking in upon the world from the very edges of creation. I look in upon the world myself and contemplate the light that I can barely remember, even as it dwells deep in my being… surrounding all that is… shared by us all… we behold the world so that the light can see… I wait patiently to let go and one day to return to the source.

Necrotic Poet

He moves through the grey shadows of death. He kisses the butterflies as they pass and smells the flowers as they decay.

Last of the Light

Precious grains of sand flow from his finger tips as his final sunset sets. As death draws near the last of the light shines bright and clear.

Krishna Corpse

In life and in death, in being and non being the Krishna Corpse is the moment and creativity of life itself. Through an infinity of incarnations he talks on all forms that ever are. He is the bloom of every flower as it opens to the sun, just as he is the withering of fallen leaves as they decompose into the soil.