In deep sleep, from the realm of dreaming I step,
perhaps by mis-step or fate, into the realm of light.
In this place my soul turns each way
and there found is a lifetime,
diamonds of wisdom and pearls of worlds,
echoing with the song of songs.
It is the greater life of a Soul that has at last remembered
its shattered bits into divine light.
When Origen whispered in his hopeful texts
of the day that would be “all in all,”
when Lucifer would be returned to love
and cosmic reunion with the divine,
he perhaps was faintly gleaming
the reconnection of the Soul with its wisdom,
strewn across both time and timelessness,
in a beauty that no wordly words could ever speak.
Sitting here, now
that place of light and sound is faded
and in its place a memory.
Perhaps it’s not our place, not our time
to recall this while in body. It’s not exactly easy to remember,
when a fly attempts to recall the greater tapestry
upon which it rests, of cathedrals of wisdom
we only see flakes of paint and cracks of ceiling.
Yet there is a part of us,
or rather the greater Whole of us that Recollects, always.
The Remembrance, the Return, the Soul hidden
behind the events of life like a subtle tune or theme.
Only this Soul is not merely of one lifetime
but of the symphony of lifetimes,
each our own unique contribution to a divine homecoming,
a return to the Home which we have never left.
God is a dreamer in that way, and a good one,
having taught himself to fall asleep
and dream the worlds and infinite eyes that adorn the universe
(both physical and metaphysical),
and find ways in which the whole mess can be re-collected,
and re-alized (literally brought into existence).
What is wondrous is compassion,
what the experience of mortality can do for immortal beings,
We who become body and experience the body’s death.
We come to love one another
despite such profound limitation,
God’s daring chance: If I sleep, might I wake up again?
And the secret is there is always a wakefulness,
hidden behind it all, like the tides rise and fall
in the ocean and the clouds appear and disappear
back into the cosmic blue.
Like the stars are born and return
to the Void that is not devoid
but ripe like the womb of the Goddess.
Our lifetimes are like vessels to be born in,
incarnational moments where we live as the stars do –
flickers in time, and learn how to unify the dance:
body and soul,
spirit and matter, all as unus mundi. One world.
This is the Earth,
not in our physical sense alone, but as a symbol,
alive and expressing the mystery of the divine,
the womb of creation and the vessel for manifestation.
The dream, then, of reality, is not a fleeting attempt
of the Divine escape from itself,
rather a deeper way to truly know itself,
to manifest all that is unmanifest,
to pour forth from the Void a Creation,
(in the beginning was the word, the sound,
the utterance that brings forth the universe).
Creation is a joy, a mirror, infinite and yet spotless.
It is in unifying (or realizing the unity of)
these aspects consciously
that we come to a crossroads in our current age.
We are creatures of paradox.
Flesh and spirit, light and darkness, expansion and yet decay.
These are at first glance the Tragic Flaw of humanity,
our greatest strength and most sensitive weakness.
Between that tension like the dance of stars
is the great womb of becoming.
The God who has not uttered his last words
but is only beginning to set into motion a cosmic fugue.
Time and space are Song for the divine,
if we have ears to hear.
In our deepest imagining then,
we are invited to invoke the All of what & who we are.
This then, is the task at hand, the challenge for humanity.
To re-collect the Spirit in the most spirit-less age.
To be profoundly wise in an age
where sages are scoffed upon as fools.
To embody the spirit that has not been bodied before.
Do we see that our profane age
is in fact the greatest enactment of the sacred?
The greatest performance and participation
of the divine with the mud of the Earth?
It is in that Mud that a Lotus blooms
and it is a Lotus of the Earth we seek to grow.