There's a magnetism -
in the air, in the ground, in the eyes of the sun,
keeping gravity in check with the mind of the sun
to keep things in order with the heart of the sun -
outside of structure, inside of paradox -
circles, circles, circling the cosmos with blank maps and directionless compasses
Writing, writing, writing - to collect a volume of love and work and truth and play -
seeking nothing more than meaning, an answer to the eternal enigmas
- why? - how? - what is this? - who am I?
Coming up empty as a begger's hands
and as rich as the poorest soul inside the palace of enlightenment -
silent solitude in the meditation of the sun,
inner exploration through the thoughts of the sun,
exploiting the strength of the light of the sun -
all to gain a following of selfless knowers -
all flowing along the river empty endless,
holding together through the magnetism,
Praying for salvation come the other side of this life,
the Heaven, the Garden, the Utopian dream
The magnetism - unexplainable electron of consciousness -
the Universal It - the All in the One - the Whole -
the Source and the Body,
circles, circles, circling in orbit the mathematical patterns of Being,
within the question of the answer,
within the definition of "nothing", where nothing is still something -
Let gravity fall where it may, just as love hunts its prey
As law holds flaccid in the court of Cosmic Direction,
The hearts beat stronger during resistance than in times of rest -
pulled into existence past the veil of illusory doubt through magnetism -
That taste of creation, grand awesome beauty within delicate fingers,
playing piano silent in halls of endless imagination - infinity.
There's a magnetism - everywhere, there's a magnetism.

I awoke from the dream to face the bright dawn of reality’s morning rise - drifting from the puddles of faraway abstraction and brought face-to-face with the picture of death - painted on every tree and cloud and in every set of eyes of every young child in the street. I saw past the forms and glimpsed the souls of every organism in existence - I saw the love radiating inward from the outward spells of the universe’s whims. I caught breath of the meaning of senseless creation, sneaking a view at the blueprints - and decided that such things are of nil importance in the world.  - That’s what craziness is made out of.

There I was - sitting amongst strangers in the strangest of strange places, simply waiting for the strangeness to stop, but instead, things only became stranger. How strange? - I wondered to myself in discreet thought. But then I realized that my thoughts were words and all of the strangers could here me mumbling about the situation. They all turned to me with their beady lizard eyes, and with sweat dripping from their foreheads, with their drinks before them, and they all scowled in my direction as if I was the true stranger in this circus of strangeness. I thought about scowling back at them, which only made them scowl even more-so at me, but I chose not to. And after several minutes of cooling my mind to a low hum, the lizard eyes all went back to their circle of chatter - ceaselessly ranting on and on about nothing except themselves and their meals and their cars and their bills and their money. I became sick to my stomach.

I remember the days of rambling aimless down beaches naked of past and frozen in present with zero regard for future. I remember the smell and sound of ocean cracking against shore in broken fragments of bop rhythm. I can still recall faces of people I never met and still hear the voices of closest friends and lovers and strangers and pets who came to the forefront of my reality and then vanished into the wind with nothing more than a simple note to say goodbye. I can recall the trips down coast routes in cars, borrowed from nobodies for a time to get from A to B without worrying about starvation or getting lost - with the mystical island rocks deep in sea, poking through the surface to greet the eye with asymmetrical wonder. The seals on abandoned sands, moaning for death and sinning with boredom and sheer laziness of the upmost amplitude. I can remember standing on roadside, sticking out thumb, smiling, and catching rides within a minute by the most incredible of characters to wander together through the paved isles of earthly human veins of vanity transport. I can remember remembering memories that have faded into silk dreams of past-life same-form consciousness that only surface from time to time to whisper sweet proverbs of sage and true light - I remember forgetting nothing and carrying on to see if anything actually matters in the grand scope of pearly eyes of cosmic vision - I remember, I remember, I remember.

Well, I had to let it go - I just had to let it go.
I don’t know why I’m writing - I seriously don’t. You can believe, or not - it doesn’t matter in all honesty to me - but I do care. I actually always care. I care about the children and the sun and China and India and Africa and war and peace and food and water and highs and lows and the earth and the air and the grand color of life sewn into the fabric of experience through eyes and minds and legs and lives. How could I not care? To not care is borderline-blasphemy - it’s spitting in the face of God and defecating on the golden throne of responsibility. Having a life is a responsibility - one of massive cosmic proportions.
And so I wait for a call, from a friend, about business concerning sound and growth and direction and sharing - something along those lines...and I wait, and I wait - in the rain, on a cloud, in the street, alone, waiting. It’s okay - not quite as bad as it seems, but everything has a mask if you look at it in the right light (or shadow?). Perhaps, just perhaps...but here I am waiting for a call, and I’m thinking about a girl - about love - and I know that where I am is exactly where I’m supposed to be, but it’s sort of sad when you wish that somebody close to your heart is standing there with you, perhaps not even talking, but simply taking in the silence for what it truly is - beauty beyond life and death and dreams and the rest...beauty beyond idea and form...beauty beyond beauty - just love...love is all, and love is truth.
I wonder sometimes about my privilege in a “first-world world” and how I’m too lazy for my own good...sometimes I wonder what somebody else would do in my place if they were me and I were them...sometimes I wonder if I wonder too much...sometimes I wonder if anyone notices or even cares that I’m lost in the cosmic space of my own mind, swimming through endless wonderings about this and that and everything and nothing all together and between it all...sometimes I wonder what it’s like to stop wondering...

I still see your face,
although you’re long gone
From the grips of this place
Past the earth’s horizon

I still love you so
And the worlds of your mind.
I’ll never forget your soul
No matter the passage of time

I hope you’re flying high,
In the sky of God’s eye.
In peace, we will all die and live again.
This, from my heart, is for you, my friend.
May this love never end.

At last,
In icy dreams of the present’s past
Holed up in eternity
Surrounded by the wisest fools
Younger than I
Older than Time, so I’ve been told

See,
Floating back through wisps of memory
Drenched in nostalgic gleam
I pick up pieces of naive me
And smile for the love of innocence -
The childlike warmth of Ancient New
Like watching clouds dance over Naked Sun

Ah yes. And so roads converge, again and again,
twisting infinitely through the cosmos, the heavens,
manifesting encounters with the personified void
In angelic form, dancing, beads, hair like silk
In desert exotic, caves of rustic sunset come dawning night
In solitude plane, contemplation erases nervousness
In tunnel of depth, going deeper and deeper and deeper,
In glowing brilliance, magnifying illumination of nothingness,
In transcendent beauty of body and mind,
In the arms, in the embrace, of the Universal Womb of All Life,
There exists no thought, no worry, no noise, no pollution,
Like the waterfalls
Or the ocean tides
Flow away on dreams and believe in anything