There are no more words
that must be written.
We have sun every song.
We are just living now;
just living for no reason.
We are just happy now;
only happy for no reason
you can see. We are just
playing now, for no other
purpose than for playing now.
We can’t see any reasons
for working now; for
building your silly glass
and steal dreams.
We are just here now.
You can see us or not.
We are still here now
and for no other reason
than we’ve always been.

From black robes to white with hoods,
from a red cross to the one burning yellow;
your misdeeds are upon you.
The executioner’s axe is ready at hand.
You must bow. You must confess.
Atonement will be made
and the demons released.
This is how we move through.
There is no more acquittal.
We are here to take back
what was taken.
We are chosen for our sensitivity
and compassion and tender love
for all God’s creation.
We see us in them. We see
all in everything. This is the way.
We are moving forward.
The old ways are dead.
Yes, we are here.

I am only lighting the road
that, for some reason,
is too dark for you to see.
The lamp I carry isn’t mine,
nor did I make it; and,
the path is already laid.
Do you understand?

Now the feeling is calm:
Melancholy in a good way;
in a dying after living
a robustly fulfilling life sort of way.

A little ahead of the herd;
a little behind eternity.
Isn’t the herd me too?
What’s going on here anymore?
Is anyone winning or losing anymore?
It seems a bit chaotic anymore.
Megalomania is a big word
for a little mind.
What can we be if not kings
and queens of forever?
Why chose to be born a slave?
Why make a world this way anyway?

Who’s punishing who?
Whose mirror do I see?
There’s no one else to watch;
no one to wave back.
No one noticing anything anyway anymore.
You can do anything
cuz nothing even matters anymore.
Aren’t we at the crux of the cusp
of the ending and beginning of time?
Can’t you see the party playing
on the screen in the other room?
Didn’t you hear the great HUM
resound in her belly?

Why am I still writing?
No one is hearing my words.
You are speaking volumes of love
to masses of vast empty oceans.
You are riding on waves of endless clouds
under the expanse of endless unbroken sky.
You are writing for me
and I am speaking only for you.

Her dark side is somehow showing - somehow finding her way down here. And that little sliver of reflected light is always enough - always balanced, even when the dark side seems so much bigger. Yet you have to remember that only a glimmer of light dispels all darkness.

Anyway, all this is the Maya - the Lovely Deva. She’s having her play day. Urging us along. Sparing only lives as all our silly stuff gets tossed. It’s not about punishing, it’s all about waking up. Just like when your woman plays the ***** to shake things up. We’re really gonna figure it out eventually. Kind of the whole point of evolving. I’ve always been an early adapter. Follow The Mother’s lead. This one is the most organic you’ll find in all the universe. She’s the interior decorator and the architect. The whole thing is her big show of course. Of course.

She gives us tiny glimpses
of her greater glory to come,
but, only through her shadows.
She also takes care
in silence and solitude.
This is part of her routine.
This is how she lights our way
only by example