he retraced his steps back to infinity
imagine the scene.
carefully carved niches in the side
of a sandstone mansion
no “mistakes” were ever made
mother would always erase that which was created
a simple profound truth.
one that would liberate the willing.
where would the eyes meet?
in the midst of the “other”
one can see the inevitablility of love in action,
for dreams cannot exist without the “other”.
as each is awakened the imprint of I
is burned and becomes foremost
on the path
here’s a cool talk i was listening to this morning