Am I awake or am I dreaming, am I dreaming that I am awake, or am I awake while believing that my awakened self is but a dream? Truly, I was always awake. I just pretended not to know. I am not on a journey. The journey is a metaphor. I am not going anywhere because I am already there. The journey is just another idea. It could become another trap. If I choose I can see limitation, a world of wants, of haves and have-nots. But these are only in my mind. I can choose again. There are no haves or need-to-bes in the first place, therefore there cannot be have-nots. There’s only me looking at me. This is the source from which all things arise, of which I am part. What I see will disappear when I realise that I’m awake. What I see even now changes because of knowing this. I do not have to awaken, that is another doing. I am already awake. There is only me and the Source within. Me and the Father are One.
The child screams and rages for perceived wants denied never getting any relief. The adults turn their backs in abandonment. Mother Earth is sick and Father Sky is away; there is not enough love to go around for the child. Eventually it quietens but this is not peace, it turns its rage inwards against itself. The tears dry, the screams turn, eerily, to silence; it becomes powerless and trapped in its own world of wants, in a world of rejection, contempt, despite. The child decides to invent wants? It pretends that it is alone and forgotten and desolate. Want is illusory with just enough seduction to trick the child into thinking it must crave what it already has. Want is a kind of limbo land, full of unfulfilled dreams and desires. Want dreams of famine and subjugation, and only knows lack in its barren soul. Want decrees that there be rules so that some have and other have not. It establishes a judiciary so that the haves can guard what is rightfully theirs from the have-nots. It sets in train a priest caste to teach the have-nots not take what is rightfully theirs from the haves. It creates something called hypocrisy that it calls love. It promises never ending feasts for which it can never provide.
Want is a fruitless barren land that can produce nothing only mirages, and pitiless beings who rage Calibanesque against what they can never have. The fruits of this enmity are desires, not healthy natural desires but the kind that causes eyes to see that which isn’t there, and having everything believe they are bereft. It wails through the terrible night, and across the long bleak winter reaches to hear any sound of its precious ring of redemption. Only to know despair.
Then the child had another dream. It saw that it was already whole, a being divine with nothing to want in the first place. It was not that the hunger ended, it was that it was never there.
At this moment the child left the land of Want, or it would be more appropriate to say the land left it. The child had everything now; all the love, security, wealth, everything it was seeking. They were there all along. It came into this world whole and complete, rounded, like a well-done sum, only it temporarily looked away.
The child speaks. "I now profess from the heart for all to hear that every hurt, injury, slight or wrong done against me is now wiped clean. It is erased. It is gone. I say there is no karma on my account, for those people to fulfil. There is only love. Love has now conquered everything".
I am light. I am love. I am joy.
Also in POETRY CORNER
1. Selection of poems from Resurrection and Other Works, by George Fennell.
A celebration of the man and his works.
2. Crack Your Cocoon: a review of This Love Filled Sound, by Venus CuMara.
3. Prayer by Eoin Meegan
7. Pandora on Fire review of new fiction by Sylvia Warham.
There is a voice that doesn’t use words - listen!
Reality is merely an illusion - albeit a persistent one.