Children of the First Ripple

…There is a Golden Flower
Inside Buddha’s Tear…

When God spoke unreality shattered
And birthed the universe by dancing with
The Cosmic Mother.
A heavenly vibration of Love
That whispers “OM” to us all.
“I adore all my star-born children,”
The Universe sings as a lullaby.
But who cries for those quarks
Who give of themselves freely
blinking in and out of existence
So that the Grand Illusion can be?

…There is a Golden Flower
Inside Buddha’s Tear…

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About Universal Shift

I am the Sonata Unusual. I coat myself with some obtuse angle too far below zero to become any warmer. I create motivation, activate schemas, moisten gardens with scents of natural honeydew. Construct this meaning, you sleepy flock. Silence your singing—despairing contortions out of tune. Shatter the brittle butterfly glass with your hideous wailing. I am born of my god’s imagination. When I die I shall meet him. For there are many things to discuss over tea…or scotch.

Posted on November 21, 2011, in Author, Fiction, Philosophy, Religion and Spirituality, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.

  1. Great post thanks. I really enjoyed it very much. You have a great blog here. Thanks again for sharing.

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