The Perfect Pattern
There is something expansive about the desert. The barren, water void space awakens something clarifying. I can think here. I can breathe here. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s from the desert I’ve come.
Creating a temple for Spirit to reside is the work of the Master. It’s the work of the soul becoming crystalline as a Human form. Since as young as I could remember I have striven for perfection. This knowing deep within that mind is the controller and body is the vehicle. That if I could create within this human form the perfect pattern, Spirit, Soul, God Self could have a home. That I could find home. That by becoming the very thing that I seek, I will be complete. And yet over the years perspectives change, desires manifest into physical wants. I am human after all. I am intimately enmeshed in this cosmic entanglement governing the ebb and flow of all life on earth. I am the stars, the planets, the trees, and the wind. I am all things and yet I am none of it. So as you can see finding completion within the paradox of the pendulum swing is the being. I am the extremes. I swing and I swing touching central knowing and gliding to the edge of the unknown. Where do I go from here? It is the unknown. The cliff’s edge drawing nearer, my toes hanging off into the abyss. I don’t know. And I like it this way. Waiting for the wind to decide my fate.