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Neelam Jun 7
Creation and dissolution
catalysis of particle and anti-particle,

The Cosmic Dancer,
choreographer of the ethereal energy,
The Infinite made manifest in finite realm.

The Source, Who is beyond duality,
The Immaculate one devoid of Sattwic, Rajasic and Tamasic gunas

Pure energy, the cosmic consciousness,
The Word, Sabda Brahman,
the Truth within Maya,
hidden from the eyes of
mortals.
Particle and anti-particle cancel each other.

Cosmic dancer : Nataraja who creates universe through cosmic dance.

Sattwic : purity and chastity

Rajasic  : Activity, energetic, arduous

Tamasic : Inertia, ignorance

Guna : Quality

Sabda Brahman : God who created the world through Word

Sabda : Speech
Liz Carlson Feb 28
God,
Help me believe You're using this brokenness in me for a reason.
Help me see Your good ways and plans for my life.
Father,
You see my pain, it feels too much to bear many days.
It feels like an endless cycle, fighting it feels so hard.
Help me have hope in You.
Help me see myself more the way You see me, Lord.
Creator,
I know You created me with amazing creativity and with good gifts.
Help me to honor that and see that more than the way I currently am seeing myself.
If I tell you, my muse,
how I long for your presence
amid the desert in the crack of dawn —
would you saunter by and stay
until these wounds be in silence
and covered by your unpredictable peace,
will you stay?

My muse, when I write you, no name
no shade, no face — a beauty with only
a mere part of your body in a physical dimension
of my story, with you here, I feel
the sense of belonging
the unknown familiarity,
take a plunge, face the mirror —
I am there, I am there.

You were born in May,
in full moon by the seaside.
You were crying melodies
and the current flow of the waves,
carried you to me, in reality, in dream,
in song, while your face
soft and maiden for what I saw in your eyes.

The past, the future,
how you brought comfort —
while my book stays there, in draft,
in awe of you, my muse.

This is how I celebrate the month of May,
where are you muse?
come and take a look in your creator —
I am here, I am here.
Wrote this for my muse! Hope you'd give this love since it's hearts' day! Bless your pen now and keep writing, writers!
Mark Wanless Jan 25
all observers are
i am i am creator
here now is just you
Snowbird in the snow
Two unique creations

Part 1

White  owl white and pure
Sits and watches .....
falling snow. Quietly.
Snowflakes created uniquely
White, light and heavenly.
Falling down in winter frequently
It was then.....
Snowowl was born silently

Beautifully unique,
don’t know what to say.....
Both Precious creations
Natures art all the way

Part2

Spread your wings
white bird and fly
high into the night and thrive
fly up while snowflakes are  falling down , falling down, falling down!
sky’s own created diamonds .

Majestic bird of wonder
Created so devine
Wings like from  an angel
White as snow so fine

Part 3

When you look up into
night
and  watch skies  falling diamonds.
While Snowowl  flying winter high
You’ll see a precious painting,
on this  blue canvas called the sky
And God our holy painter .

Shell
🐚✨
Nature is like art, no is art!!!
hxzin Jan 8
no i shan't sit
nor be complicit
i was made to part seas
to create and feel
my purpose is to move
to use these hands of mine to craft
more than you could dream of
because my mind is made of the galaxies
my thought is celestial
and if i feel like it i will build
you a universe
from my fingertips

hr.
i was feeling myself~~~ im slowly starting to procrastinate less and get more motivated to DO, im so excited to become the person i've always wanted to be who DOES the things they dream about!!
averylia Dec 2020
Once again
I am captured
Struck by the rose,
enraptured by the thorn.

I see your reflection in
ivory paper,
and the crown of your sweet head
like a blanket of fallen snow.

Does it matter, I wonder,
if you were truly alive or truly living?
For in these pages I can see your image
as truly as if it were a branding in my head.

The gentle ***** of your shoulders,
the dark and twisted curls-
Now see, you begin to see her too-
the small & delicate hands,
with crooked ring fingers,
the intuitive eyes.

And perhaps if I call Aphrodite,
down from the sea foam
and have her fair lips kiss these words,
I can have you materialize in my breath
and echo into my arms,
a statue no more.

Or perhaps I will lie a fool
my thumbs and forefingers obscured by ink
and your skin that of clay
detached and resolute.
Inspired by the tale of Galatea and Pygmalion, in which Pygmalion falls in love with the statue he's created; or the artist with his creation. I spun the tale so that it's the writer falling in love with the inevitably written
JL Dec 2020
The creator find joy in creation,
the seer in its interpretations.
mark soltero Dec 2020
never look down
it’s weak
never miss what’s lost
it’ll never be found
move forward
be your own god
give thanks to the lord
because his reflection is yours
you’re your own creator
this is your world now
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