Philosophy, poetry, beginnings of postrevisionism

One transforms

to open and

expand

three dimensional reality

into the endless

expanse made

for otherworldly beings who

transcend the physical realm

of structure and construct,

emerging into something beyond—

Though at times divine winds take us

and bring us where we do not know, 

trust in the nature of this course. 

There’s intuition in feeling, 

faith in being, 

devout and self-driven on the wind and in the wild, 

authenticated by the highest principles of becoming 

in nature and in heaven. 

Green past overbearing like green that came before,

this flower of life blooms in faithful time in the gut of all things, 

ripened in the sun,

held by space and comets aligned.

The ravages of time are blistered in the sun,

done to be undone,

worn by night and carried on.

Divine flickering falls

on foreign skies and familiar in turn, 

two parts made separate by the shadow of space,

one awake to rays reaching that that void may be broken,

the other, sleeping by light’s opposite reflection,

the sun cast off the moon.

They then again switch,

and again.

Strange and sinuous, familiar passages journey onward, 

exchanging places, 

from opposite faces of similar shores,

churches

circling monasteries

round the sun;

passing people and governments turn over,

again 

and again.

Though the starlit sky might fade

temporarily from earthbound view,

behind the smoke our fires made,

star fire still burns bright for you,

waiting to be claimed and new,

when the stars and we renew.

Don’t doubt, don’t fear, don’t blink, don’t feign;

know that the stars and we are true.

Upwards in divine ascent,

above the night,

the world fades.

She climbs beyond this veil of flesh

upwards into heaven’s fire.

Her leaving marks each one she’s met.

The steps she’s left, eternal, set,

echo in ageless depth,

each heart, marked by that echo, inspired.

Her smile blends with each of us and each of us

know love more deeply.

The love she left, eternal, set,

rekindling her soul completely,

recalls us to divine ascent,

where from it she must look so sweetly.

Are you ever only in the room you're in? Are you everywhere at once? Are you anchored to your vessels sail or free to sail with none? Are you separate or together here? What of over there? Are your commitments yours or not at all? Are you the driver or the driven? Is the life you live a life at all? Do you believe in belief? What drives you? Do you drive at all? Are you the dreamer or the dream? Are you ever in the room you're in? Are you everywhere at once? Do you choose wisely or not at all? Is your choice your compass? Where do you go? What do you do? Is the direction of your choosing? Are you a product of pursuit? Are you the one pursuing? Are you ever only in the room you're in? Are you everywhere at once? Who are you? What do you do? Ask yourself with love? What does it mean to have it all? What does it mean to fall apart? Are you apart of something more or are you just a part? Are you ever in the room you're in? Are you everywhere at once?

Never give up.

Never lose sight of what you are, of who you are, of what you could become.

Never let the fear of looming shadows consume your inner light. 

The brightness that is undeniably you could swiftly vanquish the darkest night with the simplest flickering of your eyes.

The strength of your being could rapture the world into a state of divinity and eternal youth.

The strength of your mind could bolster angels from outer space, diminish war, and eradicate disease.

The strength of your faith could deliver you from evil into the unflinching grasp of love and undiminished gratitude.

Your potential cannot be measured in words.

Your worth is vast and boundless beyond compare.

You are everything that you choose to be, and you can be anything that you choose to be 

if only you know yourself.

Love in life, and live in love.

You are infinite in eternity.

Your potential can align you, 

in spirit and harmony, 

with the calling stars 

that wait for you to reap all there is to bare.

She truly looks like home, one that I know I've known before, in the essence of her eyes lies the door to so much more. Her beauty calls forth sonnets. Her disposition calls forth soul. Her gate sways so serenely, within, a thousand dreams are told. Her aura is disarming, for her nature is her might. Her way is sweet and dawning, giving way to calling light. Her heart shows in the fawning care of loving sight. Within her visage is a vision, she has yet to realize. She truly looks like home, one that I know I've known before, if only she could see what she looks like from my door.

—On the wings of heaven, 

over manmade hells and wilderness crags, 

into the sky, untamed by fortune, 

lightning strikes but scapes the flight. 

The rider is everyman, everywoman, everysoul 

who dares to hope for beauty, 

who soars through the pouring violence 

of wilderness tears and industrial blood. 

Every seeker with the glint of sunlight still in their eyes, 

starlight by night, 

firm in the vision of flying dreams, 

sees what is unseen, 

knows what is unknown, 

is at peace, even in unpeace. 

On the wings of heaven, 

even this world 

can fade from view, below, 

into the known unknown, 

void of needless apprehension and fearful doubt, 

whisked up into the infinite spiral of heavenly ascent.

Do not try to tame it. 

It flows freely past command and demand.

It is not owned but eternal in eternity’s expanse.

Do not try to tame it. 

It’s squelched when it is named.

It’s amassed in the motion of the flicker of its flame.

To know it means unknowing,

to be of it means to be;

in the freedom of its freedom 

revel those who truly are the free.