I have to get off
on wherever I am.
No, not to get small
to appear to myself
that I am still getting off.
No, I have to stay expanded,
not reduced to a relative sense
and yet get off inwardly
on whatever appears
to be going on,
get off on whatever
the storyline says
is apparently going on,
no matter
about the numbers of people
who hold this to be so,
even if they are in my face
with their declaration
or drama about it.
In spite of the outward mandate,
I need to get off
on finding an inner way
to be present in the flow
and stay expanded
while honoring
all the props and rituals
that others hold as relevant,
even though they may be attached
to the forms
and may defend the memories
and the stories.
My self-generative energy
must keep coming through,
filling their fill
and going beyond,
as if everything around me
is a doorway to the same expanse.
And once that expanse is entered,
there is no more scarcity,
there are no more reasons
for possessions,
no more false causal-ness.
There are no more nor less
places of sacredness.
The lantern of light
is everywhere available
and every thing of frame
is of itself that light.
And life, as experience,
is honoring and celebration
without fanfare
or external acknowledgment,
without a two part involvement
of awareness and response.
Every all is the expression of light,
weaving time into a memorization,
the likes of Aurora Borealis,
with every sensory input
non-distractively alluring
yet simultaneously beaming forth.
The weave of subtle embrace,
is beyond and within.
Every form is forth coming,
no seams,
no edges,
no need for depiction or discernment.
Only always is every time,
as if there were time,
as if there were matter
that meant something,
other than the all of awe
as passage . . .
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