silentchild

For your reading enjoyment

The thunder ceases my ranting, serious blank input of cacaphony spills itself across the sky to my ceaseless mind. As thunder talks it speaks in Lao-Tzu paradoxes... I am your savior, I am your slaver, I am trust, I am false, I am all, I am nothing, I am spit and fire upon the holy, I am spit and fire upon the damned - dooming me to the Mysteries. I am the Seventh, seeking the Eighth and Ninth. I can rise no higher till I attend to these matters. Sufis saw God in everything, I seek godhead but can't find it for the change in my pocket. I go about things wrong, I travel about in circles. America to Asia to America to Africa to America to Asia and Australia to Europe to America to Eurasia to America. A corsair sans crew sans caravel. Still the sea calls to me, calls to my feet to drag me to the coast and swim to the desert. Sufis believed God was in the Void of a Still Mind. Buddhists believed Nirvana was in the Void of a Still Mind. Gnostics believe Sophia was in the Void of a Still Mind. A Still Mind is free of anger, mistrust, hate, sorrow, depression, frivality. It is not thunder, it is not cacaphony. A Still Mind is what the thunder leaves behind. There is where you will find God, Nirvana, Pistis Sophia, the Trimurti, the Goddess.