The Godness of the Cosmos

[aetheroar]

There is no personal self which efforts, yet the entirety of Existence is made of Heaven. It’s whole and free, infinitely in all directions. It’s full with no need to read the instructions. Flavor occurs spontaneously in the mouth, hovering in Emptiness with no effort to be found. Aroma of the flower is untouched by desire and the sunshine is so fine that they all are inspired. The seeing of trees occurs where the trees are and they’re kissing this blue gem shifting with the stars. With a wide eyed awakeness of infinte bliss existing, there’s no thing beyond the whole thing that could possibly be missing. We stand on the ground of being with no known of how we can. It’s magic made of nothing, appearing as a man. He’s peering out of void into his whole Being with no separate ears here to hear it all singing. The sound that the Infinite gives to All is unbound in the embodied Body Now but we can’t know how. This is God, this is Love, but it misses the call by the simple naming of. So the Subject goes seeking for Love within the Object, lost in the Cosmos in thoughts of what It’s made of. Let it all go, or at least begin to, and find trust that this Godness must continue.