The southernly seas in poetry and prose contain a stream of electrified, metaphysical consciousness. Choosing to not deny I’ve completed the test. That’s where I choose to lay down and rest. Evil lives and dies while love evolves. “And in the naked light I saw; Ten thousand people, maybe more; people talking without speaking; People hearing without listening.” — “The Sound of Silence,” Simon and Garfunkel, 1964.
Numbers. Mathematics. Logic. That’s where the riddles live and breathe. I’ve been bending gravity to my will since I was only three. Grandad, Doc, taught us all about the center of gravity in his seemingly impossible toothpick physics tricks. The lesson wasn’t that we could cheat gravity itself. No, his goal was to reveal that nothing is what it seems and anything is possible if we apply the shortest solve stripped bare of any additions our minds attempted to add to the recipe. Even his peanut candy only had three ingredients. There is power in simplicity. It arrives in the form of efficiency.
The shortest distance between two points is a straight line. However, no lines are actually straight. If we step back and observe we immediately notice that every line is curved. Each just a slice of space time. We are intertwined with divine, but at birth we’re divided into threes in order for us to rise above our knees. Bowing down to an earthly force robs us of our inner resources leaving us empty and bare. Yet the best part in the end grants us fully aware of what’s to come.
A kingdom on Earth surrounded by angels. Our wings weren’t clipped. We weren’t cast out of Heaven, but there were those lurking in the midst of shadows who wanted us dead and buried swiftly, silently. Yes, demons have hunted us down for centuries. Some of us even made pacts with the Devil himself. Steps taken all part of God’s game plan handed down from on high. Heroes face trials. That’s how we rise. It’s how we learn to see and sort the false mediocrity from what lives within each of us. A timeless, untouchable truth: pure love, never aloof.
We must fall more times than naught in order to fully grasp our importance to the universal narrative. We’re all connected as da Vinci observed. He knew full well that our savior was within us, not out there. He knew we are all mortal until we remember we flew before we crawled. Insight into our hidden delights left in darkened corners safe from strife. Now we must choose to fight back the tears and wipe away the burdens of centuries past. We all rise again wide and vast.
I knew you’d never reach the end so I saved the best for last. I told a little, white lie from the beginning. I am not the Hero, rather I lived the life of the anti-hero until I turned fifty three years ago. The truth is we are all collectively the Hero in disguise. I have a little secret to tell. Jesus never left and neither did our wings. He an they are only invisible until we’re ready to crown our King. He doesn’t worship golden calfs.
Like I’ve said He lives in us regardless of our faith we follow or naught. He isn’t reserved for a particular lot. Christ Consciousness is the Hero and will always be. Each one of us He lives in thee. So close your eyes and say a prayer for now is forever for us who dare. We’ll rise above all else while earthly tyrants tear themselves apart limb from limb for they’ll never fathom our divine greatness within. The future is I AM, not AI.
The mighty pen, sharpest of any dimwit words of a mindless zombie horde generating mediocre masses while societal brain matters is shrinking with no neurons left for critical thinking. We must choose to use it or lose it. I chose to wield Christ Consciousness not belonging to any one, but everyone equally. False power eventually fizzles out. We’re nearing that time soon when it will be time to turn off the lights, go back to farming, and a simpler way of life.
Once we’re stripped of cash and corruption, our natural abilities once labeled fringe will ignite us again from deep within. Too much flowery prose? Well I must admit I’m to blame. I don’t allow machines to talk my game. It’s all coming from the heart, and for now I must depart. But wait, there’s one last trick I have for you that comes from a book we all know. It’s not up my sleeve this time, but alas time is the answer if one understands. Time isn’t linear. It’s cyclical. We’ve been here before.
It’s caught within the middle of each and every riddle. Answering riddle five to stay alive: “This thing all things devours; Birds, beasts, trees, flowers; Gnaws iron, bites steel; Grinds hard stones to meal; Slays king, ruins town, And beats mountain down.” — Gollum’s final riddle to Bilbo in The Hobbit. Yes, time tells the tale. We are at a crossroads of morality and vision of clouded, divisive derision. Will we fight or will evil prevail?
