Life is born in darkness; the nothingness of the womb is the mother of all creation
No cells and no souls exist outside of the nothing
We all exist in it, in a state of dream, playing characters of our own subconscious
A continuous archetype theater over and and over again
The curtains never fall, the light never turns on
It is but an illusion of a beautiful mind,
There is no light and no self in a dream world.
The consciousness is all there is and we are but drops of the same life
Seeing itself over and over again
Never ending dance of the one eye looking within.
The sun within and the sun above is one and the same
Life is meditation, stillness is creation, sound is manifestation.
To see is to dream, to sleep is to awake, to find is to look.
There is no difference between you and another
Because one life born over and over in different times
Is talking to itself from a different mask.
Timeless space less selfless river swirling around itself
In order to see itself, to feel itself
There is no mirror when all there is, is you.
The self doesn’t exist, ego doesn’t exist, life is to sleep.
To awaken is to die, to be born is to fall asleep.
Into the fire of the creative mind we play our endless game
Lovingly teasing each other into a sandcastle of the child.
The same child, in every single one
Trying to find another to play with.