The Conundrum of Being Uniquely and Entirely and Ineluctably Irreducible
Co-creative evolution
is no easy reality
to awaken.
First there’s the dawning.
A cracking open
of all that has
been shut.
Then, there’s
the gulping down
of the squirming truth that
all that is, all that ever
has been, is co-
equally your
responsibility.
Lots of rest is needed
to accompany
this digestion.
Space.
Time.
All of which could be a blink
or a bazillion light years.
All of which
is only
now.
Further digestion is required.
An integration so subatomic
it cannot be mantled,
let alone marked.
Layers so fine
a naked nanoscope
could not fathom
the form. Its
construction.
Blind turns.
Obscured views.
Unlightable roads
leading nowhere
in particular.
Discernable.
Until it is.
Particular.
Discernable.
Then starts
its emergence
into being.
Whatever it is
caught in the sites
as yet unseen...
seeable.
IN forms itself
into reality.
It is unspeakably
intelligent.
Hic sunt dracones.
Beware, here be dragons.
A medieval cartographical marking
made by sailors before
the seas were charted,
the other side of the
world seen.
Ever a beguiling beck,
the yon vastness,
in spite of its
monsters.
For here the map is made
by invisible strands
of the mind’s silk,
woven into headings
only wind-borne
seedlings know.
Great response-ability
lies in the cartography
of the void.
[It is learned
enroute.]
Here lies chaos.
An inferno.
A lacuna.
No thing.
All things.
Trans forming.
Transcending.
Flow, the
only constant.
There is no
vacuum
in the mind.
“Man is his own
most vexing problem.”
—Reinhold Niebuhr
“It’s strange to be here,
the mystery never
leaves you.”
—John O’Donohue,
Anum Cara
“What we are afraid of
isn’t so much our limitations,
but the infinite within us.”
—Nelson Mandela
Men seeing
what has become
plain, but not visible.
Cogent.
For to see beyond the veil
would be to render oneself
incapable of a FREE will to create
without the bias of knowing
WHAT IS that would
condition that
creation.
In other words,
the mystery of source
remains a mystery so that
we can create as children
do…before instruction.
Influence. Training.
Inculcation.
“Knowing."
Before given this
paper, these colors,
those lines to
paint within.
Before turning
the question mark
into a hook.
Free is free.
Free to imagine.
To wander. Wonder.
Free to explore.
Unceasingly.
Free to get it wrong
trillions of times
before we
get it
right.
And in the process
discovering the difference
between wrong
and right:
none.
More digestion.
“Made in the image
of the maker…”
is our design:
limitless.
It is only we who
absorb limits, impose
limits, by a forebearing
whose need to survive
a world perceived outside
their “control” made fear
the only god they would
truly bow to, thus
ordaining limit
as a condition
of reality.
All that has
sprung from
their reality is
our reality.
Written in
the strands
of our DNA.
But it’s not real.
Sure we’ve built
edifices around it,
constructed
elaborate
systems
within it.
Still, it is
not real.
What is,
still resides
within each of
us, within our
imaginations
fed, fueled by
our hearts,
our souls.
To be sure, there be dragons
of old — hideous, blood-thirsty,
out to get you — so beware!
AND dragons of new:
magical, whimsical,
colorful creatures
waiting for us
to find them.
See them.
Feed them
the only thing
they need
to live:
beauty.
The beauty
of an open
heart, a
freed
mind,
a creator
daring, willing
to create without
a drawing board.
Or a map.
First: do no harm.
It is fear that has
taught harm.
And ...
everyone
hurts.
Both as (re)action taken
and (re)action felt.
For acting out
harms as blindly
as acting in.
The harm of fear
seeking only to
be found, loved,
even with claws
out, teeth bared,
wound seething.
We must learn
a new way
to be
creators.
Freed.
Welcome
to our
world.
∞/∞
Eve Moore ©2022
© Photo: looking glass, Eve Moore
Eve Moore: Once a professional writer of advertising, I saw the light & it has shown me words of a different nature. And so I take them down & offer them up. And all is well.
For more of Eve Moore's amazing and heart centered poetry and writings, click here!
http://www.crystalwind.ca/eve-moore
“When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.”
—Jimi Hendrix
This poem/prose was submitted exclusively to CrystalWind.ca by Eve Moore.
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