Roaming in the Supremely Profound State Inherent in Matter As It Is

The planets sing strophe and antistrophe

Like a tragic chorus

Inside the amphitheater of the stars

Where the Muses and Graces

Consort and cavort with Eris

And all the alarming children she bore.

A circle of storm clouds of electro-magnetic rain 
Gather apocalyptically along the edges of Mind,  

Registering every thought

Impressed upon them 

By cosmic Logos

As the Moon

In radiant choreography

Executes the map and schema of her dance,

Spinning in the sky

A design of steps

Emblazoned upon the floor of Earth,

Her nightly performance                    

Costumed by the swirl of lunar clouds

Drenched with sweat of cosmic pain and strife,

A human audience below 

Arduously mirroring her steps up a silver stairwell 

Into the suffering and liberation of days to come

And the archetypal trope and image 

Of the nightingale

In every poem that ever sang of the bird

Warbles clear in the vanishing moment, 

Writing and unwriting themselves

And this feathered one

Of love's secrets and mystery..

And the silent instruction of the moon    
Constantly addressing us

In ghostly transmissions
Which only our subconscious fathoms 

Directs our hearing

To the dialogues of stars,

To the symphonies of planets

In the universal current of sound

As we roam in the supremely profound state

Inherent in matter 

As it is

Along the sapphire  streams

That branch and tumult through the heavens

Fine-tuned tonalities 

Of painful bliss and wretched accord        

Beyond all comprehension flow,

A confusion of so many pathways 

Converging within a spiral

Of sound compressed inside a seashell.

There is no way out, there is only going within

For us who are broken pieces of an enigma
In search of our source,

Lost in the murmuring echo of our life

There is for us

A music dressed in the One Breath

That we hear without hearing

Within the opening that surrounds us.

The Logos that informs

All those burning words 

That we have ever put forth
To render and construct our life

And stand on the sharp nail point of 

I Am 

And build.

This unceasing state of probation

In which our fledgling skill  as co-creators

Is placed on trial 

To undergo the throes of defeat

And scratch for a rare, limited victory

Upon the Earth

To follow with hammer and nails

The One Thought in its expedition

To the edge

Of  Multiversal reality

A two word matrix going forward of

I Am,     It is

Moment after moment.

My most beloved

Does orchestrate the symphonies for

Electric hierarchies of harping angels

Who from the Beginning

Erected heavenly palaces and castles

From the architectonics of music,

The vibrant electro-magnetic resonance

Of primordial dawn.

A Perpetual victory.  
The superconscious singing in pre-verbal harmony,

That force of sympathy that has carried us

Along this narrow pass across the abyss of exile.

From the Kingdom to the Crown

The openness of Creation constantly breathing

Its plenary space 

Supernaturally shimmering everywhere 

As the lost chord played by seraphim

Thrums the air with the invisible Flames

That surround us.

Our minds dazzled by things of a greater nature
That undistort our genius

While the seraphim conduct

The choir of dominions and angels 

Who sing and play on golden harps

Somewhere in this universe, I believe. 

Or maybe not.

Perhaps there are no hierarchies whom rhapsodize the heavens, but

Perhaps there are. 

The air we breathe is constantly breathing for us. 

This breath is the music of the universe that engulfs us. 

In the immediate present

Is the culmination of  a stream of Events

Barreling out of the past 

Linked to a pre-existent future

That branches wildly

In a whole series of unfolding results 

Continuous with their causes
Ad infinitum

The central point of the first unity

The whirling forth of the self-expression of the Primal Will,

The ever-turning of the wheel of manifestation

Perpetual motion, the triple ternary from the atom to the planet,
Spherical motion

The solution for the quadrature of the circle

Exists with God

For Whom nothing is impossible

The perceived forms of the eternal world
Are those which are constantly perceived in this one,

It is here the angels depart compassionately to the foreground,

Bidding us to come toward them without assistance,

Leaving us to place our lives in the balance

And stand in poise amidst the gravity of the universe,

To equilibrate Being, Becoming, and Nothingness

At the fulcrum of all possible worlds 

To find the best,

And to plead with dignity for mercy and success
And move forward and onward 

With our first baby steps each moment

Into the Unknown echoing

Into the Unknowable

Forever roaming in the supremely profound state

Inherent in matter
As it is.