Whatever it may be that enters matter to manifest human life, it does become ours to shape as we dream of. Some poets have called our forms a flute for God to whistle through, or a vessel meant to be filled with the Divine. Perhaps those poets sparked my glimpsing of a liquid luminosity, something that flows into us and becomes us as we like it. I imagine it arrives from above or beyond. Surely it is sourced from a heavenly realm, maybe benevolent, maybe loving, and likely beyond our everyday comprehension. Im imagining things. As we all do, knowingly or not.
The Task
The Task
The Task
Whatever it may be that enters matter to manifest human life, it does become ours to shape as we dream of. Some poets have called our forms a flute for God to whistle through, or a vessel meant to be filled with the Divine. Perhaps those poets sparked my glimpsing of a liquid luminosity, something that flows into us and becomes us as we like it. I imagine it arrives from above or beyond. Surely it is sourced from a heavenly realm, maybe benevolent, maybe loving, and likely beyond our everyday comprehension. Im imagining things. As we all do, knowingly or not.