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If love is infinity is reality, why is it necessary that we human beings on Earth seem to live in the world of the finite?

The answer is the finite is the pathway, paradoxically, to infinity. It's like a kid growing up. There are steps, stages, each of us must take to reach the summit, infinity. Know truth by untruth. One is all and all are sacred.

Ultimately, we shall realize the Cosmos has no beginning and no end and is, therefore, the last step before our spiritual beings exist forever in infinity that the Supreme Being created:  omniprescence, omniscience, omnipotence.

I will wander
into wilderness
to find myself.
I will leave behind
my accoutrements,
memories of medals,
of past applause
and accolades,
accomplishments that
warranted degrees
and diplomas
portending future
successes. I like
who I am, who
I have become. No,
I love myself, and that
is my greatest achievement,
the acme most men
are blind to as they
mistake wealth for worth.
Most would say
I will be lonely,
but they are wrong,
because I will always be
with my best friend ever,
my real self. And I will
share my joy with
squirrels and rabbits
and deer, with bushes
and broken branches
and brush, with rills
and rivulets and rivers,
with rising and setting
suns and countless
stars coruscating in
night's sky. I will say
prayers to piles of pine
and sycamore limbs
that once were live,
but now make monuments
I worship. I am at one
with all I prize.  My eyes,
even when they are closed,
see their beauty. I know
I will be blessed forever.
I lie on my bed, Earth,
and wait to join all
in solitude and grace.

In crepuscular skies
I descry sailboats afloat
on soft seas
out of reach
as I lie along
the sandy beach.
Do I wish
to be on one,
the one that sails
on, undeterred by
imminent darkness?
No moon there is
tonight to light
one's way,
only stars
and intuition.
Is what I wish for
not unlike life,
a journey of waves
and storms, winds
whipping at my sails?
Yes, there are also
placid passages
when one can close
his eyes and dream
of moments of
tranquility and calm.
But what of stormy
weather when whether
one can withstand
tumult, oceans of
uncertainty, swells of
hell-like hurricanes
of dread and remorse,
forces so strong
one sees no ways
from which to recover?
We only hover and hope.

Cosmos is Infinity is Love.

I am in love with this young woman.
She dances through my dreams
like a filly foal, frisky, full of fun.
She knows she is a beauty,
but wants to share with me each iota
of her new-found feminity.
She prances into my my heart
with no timidity and makes her home
there to share her love with me
unfettered, unafraid. She wraps
her braided golden hair around
my chest so I can sleep not nor rest.
The rest is ecstasy that has no end,
except a new beginning of the same.
Tame she is not. She is Eros come aflame.
Shame? Why should she be?
In some cosmic way, she has always known
that fluids she ******* are but tears
of pure passion, joy, to be savored
by her and me. Night becomes day,
but there is no end to this melody
of moans and murmurs. I hold her
in my arms forever,
this young woman whom I love.

We move in the wrong direction.
Out, not in. Money, not what is moral.
Power, not compassion. Finite, not infinity.
Goods, not goodness. Knowledge, not wisdom.
Aggrandizement, not sharing. Others, not One.
Why are we blind? Because we do not see with
our hearts.

On other side of grass-grown green
sits a shepherd, his back against a tree.
No one ever sees him;  he tends his sheep
all day. There is no one to talk to except
sun and sky and wind, but he is not alone,
for Cosmos is his friend. The shepherd,
sage of ages, is enlightened;  love is
who he is. He speaks in silence as his sheep
eat their bellies full, and knows both past
and future because of who he is. But we
shall never know him, so near and yet so far,
on other side of grass-grown green where
a shepherd sits, his back against a tree.

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