There became the thought, and that is the greatest mystery yet.  Amid the thought there became nothingness.  Amid the nothingness there became knowledge.  Amid part of the knowledge there became mass and form and here and now and then and there and come and gone and lightness and darkness. 

And the masses and forms began to swirl and search and break apart and combine, and the thought began to echo off of coming and going and we became creation, along with the stars and the heavens and the mountains and the seas and the animals and fish and fowl, and love became the only way we would be able to explain it.

And the eyes of God became for us, in this way, open.

 The thought is Conscience, the Consciousness of God; the quietness, the emptiness which whispers in our minds the Love of God though the noise of chaos deafens all; though the clamor of separation screams in our hearts, though the coming of death renders from each moment through each other moment only the past, the present and the future.

Awareness is what we allow ourselves to know.  Light spreads into its elements as it enters and leaves a prism.  If it then enters and leaves another prism, it again becomes a singularity.  Just so, the awareness of God filters through us and out of us and back into us and back out of us again and again so that we can know, like the prism in its task, each hue of God, and how they flow together.

Consciousness is both within us and without us,  It is both the great spaces between the electrons of the atoms which constitute our physical forms and the vast (to us) distances between stars and planets, stars and stars, galaxies and galaxies; it is that which both encapsulates and nourishes the universe.  And Consciousness is composed of the thoughts of God.

In this way we are contained within God.  In this way, all creations; animal, vegetable, mineral, water, air, insect, planet, star, solar system, galaxy and universe; are part of the mind of God and part of the mind of God is part of the mind of each of us

The universe, such as it is, is a place for making friends.
We are, such as we are, smaller than any grains of any sand
In somewhere far larger than all the oceans of all places as one place,
And we wave casually to each other through light that passes to and fro
Within the simple transient natures of our several sided curious souls,
With light that passes effortlessly through the long distances of the thoughts of God.

Greetings!  Had lunch yet? Would you like to spend a life together?
We have the time and place.

Love is a coat
You wear when you are warm
And then dangle uncarefully
Over the back of the chair
When you are not.

It is the breeze
On the hot summers eve
And the north wind
When creation hardens
Into dreamless mortality.

Love is the sailing
Of consciousness upon a far universe
And the silky tender touch
Of you long, long after
The memory has faded.

Love is,
And is.

Another hour with you,
One way or the other,
Would not have made much difference
In my life all those years ago.
One more hour to be in love,
One more hour to fall out of love:
Either way it would have been
One more hour to hide away
In that secret place where I keep
Each hour with you under lock and key,
Out of the line of sight, out of the thought of mind.
So, until now,
What should have been the harm
In one more hour with you?

Life needs to be something you can put down somewhere
And look at once in a while, and play around with,
And change a piece here and there occassionally, or go back
And put something again like the way it was before
Because you've changed your mind or made a mistake about it.
That would be alright with me, if it would be alright with you
And any of your friends and family that might care to join in.
Life needs to be something done together,
Especially if it is not always right or good looking the first time.

Musicians should make good music,
Carpenters should build things that last
And Celestial Mechanics should fiddle with stars and orbits.
I am not saying they should not be friends,
Or go to each others houses for dinner
And show each other the tricks of their trades
Between courses or over desserts.
Quite the contrary,
A Muscian should be able to find the tune of a
Well-built cabinet just the way that a fixer of Saturn's inner rings
Should hear the harmonies of the movings of worlds,
And a carpenter look at the stars and vision plumb lines
And the mechanics of fitting and glueing them well together.
Perhaps they should take up hobbies all together,
Or go bowling on odd Tuesdays when theres a sitter for the kids;
But, really, now, what would you do if your galaxy were broken
And someone could only think of a G flat guitar string to fix it?
Or what if your closet door were off the hinges and the
Only thing that came to mind was the new fusion technique on Mars
Thats used to melt crashed up asteroids back together?
People should do what people do best as long as it is theirs to do,
So;
Musicians should make good music,
Carpenters should build things that last
And Celestial Mechanics should fiddle with stars and orbits.
And you and I should meet once in a while in a quiet little place
Around the corner and try and fall in love all over again.

What would you think,
When you looked at stars through the holes in the dark,
If you didn't know where light came from,
Or how it was built before you saw it?
Would you again feel mystery?
Would you again feel small?
Would you once more be able to think
That romance and awe had a chance
Out here on the plains of this mortal world
With the planes of all creation scattered about us like debris?
Like the dreamer and his dream after its fullfillment,
Like the wisher granted the old wishes for wisdoms from the void,
We are no longer come from where we are going,
And the knowledge of the building of light has all to do with it.
I will leave it to you to figure out what,
If you still can.

How come the young
Are suppossed to save us,
And how come they never do?
How come we always make them
Grow up like we are
And then stand back and say,
"Oh, well, the next bunch can do it"?

My skin remembers yours.
Odd thing to think about here and now; suddenly, again.
My lips remember your lips.
My ears remember your voice, your laugh.
Your hair was like light falling on my even then darkening heart.
My hands recall playfull impatience, recall
Passions like milk and honey and satin dreams.
Where are you gone to now?
Where have I come since then?
Is now?
Could then have really been?
Thank God my skin remembers yours.

Mr. Johnson wanted a new shirt.
One afternoon he walked downtown
And went to his favorite clothes store.
He found a shirt he liked, and bought it.
He found some matching pants,
Which he didn't need, but
He bought them too.
The signs all said: "Please Buy These Good Things",
And, "You Will Look Good In These And Have Fun".
It was all very normal
And aboveboard and happy.

Mr. Johnson wanted to become
A black femail, and a lesbian,
And adopt some Greek children
And seriously study Hare Krishna.
Nobody wanted to believe him;
Nobody wanted to tell him he could.
When he could no longer lose his own argument,
He saved up the money and hired a doctor.
The surgery was long and complex, but went well,
And the recovery was quick,
Unremarkable as far as complications
And the doctors press conference.

Ms. Johnson got layed off from work.
The neighbors would not come over
For Tuesday canasta anymore.
There were articles, lawsuits, questions, questions.
The children could not go safely to and from
School, or play out in the yard unquarded.
The rent on the house went up
And someone sent a letter bomb
That would have been fatal except
The mailman would not bring the mail for fear
Of infection, or cross pollination, or some such thing.

Ms. Johnson wanted a new blouse.
She disguised herself and left the house
Before dawn going out the back window
Where the garage blocked the line of view.
She went to a store over in Ashville she had never been in.
She found a blouse she liked, and bought it.
She found a matching skirt,
Which she didn't need, but
She bought that too.
And the signs all said: "Please Buy These Good Things",
And "You Will Look Good In These And Have Fun".
It was all very normal
And aboveboard and happy.