Almost a month has gone by since my last post. I have been moving through space at a light speed pace. The movement of time has had no place in my little world. And now the magic is bubbling again. Those streams of golden threads that caress my imagination and fling my heart into uproarious emotions. The feeling so sweet that there are no words for their place in this life. And yet I write again, because the urge is upon me.
I had a dream last night and in the dream I saw humans only as soul essences. The glowing band that is so effulgent around their bodies spoke to me as though it was the only reality that mattered. It was moving me to tears and I knew I had crossed the barrier to none self. For the first time there were no personal pronouns to describe this being. It wasn’t I, nor me, nor any version of that thing that describes the self, in a very self-ish way. It was just existing. There wasn’t a face to put to this being. How do you describe the nothingness of that ‘presence’ state? No, it is indescribable.
And so here we are again. There is greatness upon us in the form of the second installment of “Letters.” Robert has waited for this moment for some time and would know it only when that next poem filled his imagination. The poem has come and many more pages after that. We have decided to publish excerpts from the new information and as the days go by I will be doing just that. Today, however, I would like to present to you the poem in it’s full content. Let your minds drift away from the pattern of analogy and lilt on the breath of the words. Let your hearts know that we are destined for greatness and with joy and calm put your worries to rest.
ⓒ 2010 cosmicobserver
Open eyes upon the world,
our vision once begins.
core of Source
is stirring, molten, swirling
like a lava,
like a lake of stinging fire
on the veil.
It is arising, and it’s burning,
dawning from the depths
of innocence through jaded
tempers of the mind.
Who is this mind
who thinks he rules this world?
Who thinks he can control
the Source of Power
What inevitable surprises are in store
for those who fear
and wish to denigrate the heart!
There is a withering upon us now
that will endure and multiply
until its burning hour is done.
It will not pause nor cease until
it has devoured the ancient calumny
of indignation, shallowness and shame.
The world of change has come
into the countenance of men.
Seek not for refuge
in the passing vestiges of time.
It is not there,
the succor you would find.
It is not there
within the frozen, turning, sliding into dark—
the world that’s fast eroding
into epochs of the
Seek not at all of anyone or anything.
who lures you to a form,
nor any who would offer you
a place upon that ground.
Release the clutching, catching
and the distance
that keeps you from the freedom
of the formless one,
the child of peace,
So, let the forms within you move
from deep within
and far below
It’s there that comes,
to surface in the moment of the pulsing
of an age—the end,
and fruition of
the hapless world
Copyright © 2010 by Robert Lee Potter