by Anonymous
(Asia)
Spiraling down from betwixt the clouds a light suddenly bursts forth and eyes weary with night cast upwards and heart rejoices. Now all is illuminated and revealed to be joy overflowing and uniting and recreating eternity to eternity. There is no line misplaced, no straggler unaccounted for, no waif unembraced. The veil drops and it is fiercely, consumingly clear, the Divine is here. The Divine dwells within all and all within the Divine. The eagle lifts into the sky and spreads her wings like the dawning sun. Her swift gaze lights upon the world and it is received as one; as a hatchling straining for blessing. There is nothing lost of Divine Love.
I interiorly whisper gratitude for each miracle moment that presses into consciousness—the song of a mockingbird, the dew shimmering gold in the morning light, the marbled stone beside the path, the arms of the sassafras reaching up and out to greet the sun, the breath within my lungs.
The feelings is expanding out, through my forearms and shining out of my hands. It makes my face to smile and my head to push back and draw in the sky. I can’t but beam at those I see as the revelation of perfect harmony within all life is herself smiling at me within them and within all. The sky is raining down petals of golden love which enter in and then shine back out. The answers to all misery are resolved and embraced within the kiss of a child. Everything is precisely as it has been foretold from eternity and ordained into being. We are held within the ever evolving expression of Divine Love, bursting forth into life and returning again unto life. There is no stone misplaced, no falling leaf left to chance. I can feel it. These truths are shining more brilliant than the sun herself, than seven suns.
In class, my mind is a spacious sky with a myriad golden threads of light who dance of their own accord into a weave of celestial song. I can’t help but smile at the absurd juxtaposition of sterile classroom and empty academics exteriorly with the kaleidoscopic river of life let loose interiorly.
“You look happy today, what’s funny?” I laugh. In fact, I’m the only student. “I just am having a good day. Happy to be in class!” Not a lie. I am happy to be there. Ancient Hebrew with the witty and reserved teacher. I notice his face in a new way, actually not his face, something deeper. I can see his eyes—a tension, a fear, an edge of disquiet. If he could see what I am seeing, there could be nothing but exaltation. There is no communicating this, however, and I am aware of that.
Class ends and I am out in campus. Students are about me. I am seeing into them in the same way. Social personas are recognized and seen clearly as flimsy, clumsy walls erected of the fear of self. They fall away before me like dreams and I can feel the souls behind the faces. There is only love and fear. Some faces shine out love, others are contorted with fear. It is harsh to witness, like seeing a loved one taken captive and whipped mercilessly. There is one student whose face I cannot bear to behold, so agonized is his spirit within tangled prisons of self-terror. I turn and walk away and weep.
Once alone, I allow myself to weep loud and long for the suffering. The sense of separation between me and that which is about me is falling fast. The pain of that student, of which he himself is unaware, I am certain, weighs on me until the last tear has dropped. The grass amidst which I sit is the stuff of my soul and the blessing of my soul is its grateful desire. I take it in and it is of me. We are One.
Ideas cascade into my mind and I know I must write a book.
Comments for Shattered into the Light part I
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