Sunday, March 11, 2012

Daily Sketch No.8


Here we are, wielding the power of creation within us at every moment, wake or nether. The larger we grow, the greater a fool we are. If only the white fire could be felt. Yet we are damned to merely look at it. Or is it only I, is it me I see like such, a fool with freezing cold a touch, staring into my own imagination with but half a nature, once a mind, twice desire, thrice the hope?

I am ashamed of myself when I seek pleasure in revelation, because the temptress never fails to rise; prideful joy. But it's pleasure I find in it, I can't help it, so easy to forget what I was looking for, forget where I was looking for it, shaking my head in hopes to shed the caked on fun it's been to bathe in the magic of an axiom with markers pointing many ways into journeys around, through and to the ultimate truth all without uttering but a whole word of it. Funny how we can walk the earth as truth ourselves and can't see it neither in each other nor in the the mirror. No X-Ray could reveal it either, no device of any kind other than our transcendable self, rising through our mind beyond the great reef of mundane practicality. There, deep outside and high inside we can and may find a source of cause that makes us understand where beneath- within our worldly mind- we can find the meaning for our actions and rely on the vessel with a firmer touch from our soul. Does the mind touch the soul, the soul touch the mind? Which ever way, this best be the reason to seek, but it's probably best to beware of the temptress and not digress without a trail of crumbs.

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