Here is the tear that is never in fear from that weathered storm that keeps serenity at bay. We are never alone in this place where thoughts visit and emotions stay. The butterflies of tomorrow cannot be fathomed in the mind today, and if they are fathomed they are made into reality. We are one as one can be one. The truth of life is never saddened by the fluctuations, it is enriched by it, however the separateness of divisive thought patterns make us question our sanity. Beautiful is the one who is never apart from his own true self. The colors that are seen by the eyes have each a perfect hue to its own abstraction. Weaving the rainbow with the complexities and instruments of the physical and nonphysical mind is what we love. Our senses are there for experience and our assessment of it are there for self-tasting.
Love is the way, the little boy said. So why don’t we love each other furiously, he concluded.
We have been trapped in a dark cave where endless winters reign supreme, but now we have found the light and the path out of this terrible night of separation. Love has placed golden flowers at our feet on the path to the light. His spirit told him.
When are we saved from illusions and despair, one of the children asked the little flawless boy.
When you have made the two into one, and when time no longer applies for you, in you and as you. When time and forms have been transcended by hearty wisdom, that is when you are to be saved, the boy answered uninterruptedly.
The wise lover says that each petal are his favourite, and that nothing can extinguish the intensity and power of his love. How is this true?
The boy said, the wise lover is one with his beloved, and that is where his confidence stems from. He is beyond division and he is never at strife with himself or fundamentally with other beings in existence. He knows the fruits of the father when he sees them and he loves to give shade to other beings.
Am I contradictory? Hell, I never intended to be!