In the daze when the serpent drew near
It's spoken of now to be known, that the memory fades though but written in stone, and the one that walked upon so, so infused he with the know.
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It's spoken of now to be known, that the memory fades though but written in stone, and the one that walked upon so, so infused he with the know.
That the words of the trickling stream find heart, in the days when the serpent drew near.
Reflectic streams, our word spoken dreams, and ever away forever it seems;
though the truth in the matter of mind, that to do- is to do no thing, that to be- is to be no thing, that to breathe, as though unaware.
And that heaven is yours for the asking, thus the choosing; for love propels all that knows of life, a 'thought' thus eternal.
A seed becomes an orchard of eternal seeds, unquenchable the I, unquelchable the Mind.
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That the words of the trickling stream find heart, in the days when the serpent drew near.
Reflectic streams, our word spoken dreams, and ever away forever it seems;
though the truth in the matter of mind, that to do- is to do no thing, that to be- is to be no thing, that to breathe, as though unaware.
And that heaven is yours for the asking, thus the choosing; for love propels all that knows of life, a 'thought' thus eternal.
A seed becomes an orchard of eternal seeds, unquenchable the I, unquelchable the Mind.
Read less
Apr, 2018Views
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