Yes.
Dreamstuff lends
us
a cloud to feel safe in,
even
if it plays the game
of
threatening us: feeling 'safe',
that
is, to the degree the cloud
can
allow us to fall for the ruse
that
we 'know' what's going on
or
what anything is. The game
is
very tight: who can argue that
down
is not down or up is not up?
But
neither up nor down is anything
but
an illusory synaptic current
(thought)
which gives logical sense
(whatever
seems inarguably
to
link cause to effect) to sensation.
What's
really fun is when we finally
deeply
clue into our creations
of
certainty and see them
for
the ephemera they are
so
that we can begin to use them
no holds
barred in creations
of
our own: art, conversation, sex,
omelets,
photographs, life and death.
Then
we get a taste of what
'God'
means: unbounded creation.
Then
we realize we are this godstuff
ourselves.
Mortal flesh - our
illusory
packaging, so tender
and
beautiful and thrilling in its games
of
pleasure and pain – reveals itself
as
godstuff too – and prospects
of
the possible become infinite.
Lose or win,
Lose or win,
you
win it.
Out
or in,
you’re
in it.
.
1 comment:
...Pithy, gossamer, and misty...Wonderful stuff!
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