I lie in bed. I look down at this body. Mine. Not very interesting. I wish to feel the single this. Aloneness. Thingness. Separated and detached, No past which wants to show itself; Just now. Alone but not a lonely I, For as a Buber labeled it, An I and Thou, All others also I and Thou Surrounding and surrounded by… Monads all. Single souls. Working on and out the hole And whole of this existence. Fingers typing, Eyes a-skyping Mind hard to describe Where is it? What’s it doing? All and nothing. What’s it want? A knowing all integrally, Organically, Unseparate yet separated. This is mysticism underrated In a nutshell.
Lying In Bed In Truth 3.12.2018 Nature of & In Reality; Circling Round Reality; To The Child Mystic II; Arlene Corwin