We live in a clash of cymbals then hear the noise and the opposing silence.  Another thing and another thing.  We see it is always so  Love and Loss; Love and rejection a double dose.  Surely there is shame and pride, beauty and ugliness, long summer days dreaming unafraid then head on toward fearful death so much left undone unsaid a total loss farm we bought then against the end one famous long ago our advocate in the stunning dream the rejected stone.  It is over.   One is born remembering nothing.  Blessed nothing.  It was better it seems than this rude place.  But now I know no other.Some day it shall be written,perhaps I will write about how lovely it was in the morning.

Two men were talking to God you might even say they were  praying both askeded for the same gift; vulgarly known as filth lucre-money.  Gods told them that they each could have their prayer answered but   they would have to decide whether they would put their faith in luck or merit.  The First said I am a democratic man I hardly can bear to to think I am better than any other so my choice is luck.  The second said well it hardly seems right that an undeserving man should be disproportionately rewarded,no that is not at all just.  I will put my faith in merit.  The gift was given to each and each retained his own conceits but when the wind from God blew and  nothing remained of either of their fortunes  All is Vanity- Nevertheless for Love' sake I shall fear the  Lord who gives me peace.

Today is bright but tomorrow it will pales before the long ago-like so many phantom steps, a journey of days only seem because...once some bright sun's glory ceased, evolved not but was abruptly gone.  There the heart stopped and remained like a soldier sentinel faithful mid beat to  a past tha was  no more. Yes my little children once we were young.  You were young and you were my world.   That is what I remember the yesterday I will recall,the place where our treasure are  stored that neither moth nor rust can corrupt-where we shall awake after a little sleep, the last of the shredded  storm gone in the brightening dawn- only a day after yesterday we  will be there together again. No time shall have passed.

It is not this yet this is on the path.  There is the coincidenceof two worlds each the antithesis of the other, mutually excvlusive; yet each is an affirmation of the other.  Like a double negative they cancel each other out.  This is the nothingness that cannot be known; the mystery that can never be solved .  The Nothingness preceedes all.  All is contained  in it yet it is unbound.  It is not a question  to be persued.  .  The child stands before it not understanding .  This is its the final reality- the non object- forever unknowable.  Yet this can be accepted  the permanent paradox , the dark and the light that is neither.  The One.  The One  accepts all, lets all otherness enter into  Being; and knowing not one knows: the grandeur,  that great peace which surpasseth understanding is knowing the  unknowable God.  He says I am that I am and we are fulled with joy that the Truth is in us and it is the gift of eternal being Unknown.

In so much as I can objectify myself I am the dreamed.  In so much as I cannot objectify myself I am the dreamer. How great is my love?  Greater than I can know-How great is the universe this too I cannot know.  What is the smallest this is beyond mme.  From the least to the greatest I am surrounded by the unknown; so much is the dreamer greater than the dreamed.  I know little so the dreamer's love for the dream is greater than than the love that is known as the  love of the child  by its parents is the greater; as the creation by the creator but this that we cannot is love.

It is not...
Not Natural; Not Causal; Not Logical
It is Between all Changes
All arises from it
It is not an it
It is an I
We are little i's
When we knew our littleness
We Loved I
He is Our Father
Tells us in all that is that
We know Nothing Is
We were Nothing once
Before we were small
To Nothing we are  returning...