Synaesthesia

I bow.

I bow to the mystery of God.

And the God of Nature

and the true Nature of God.

And I bow to the Mystery that is hidden in between the thighs

of a Woman,

which is God.

And God is walking the earth as ecstasy.

And I bow, not needing to bow at all,

but I do it anyway

And I know enlightenment is nothing special.

And one would not even need to call it that.

For one does not need to name the Sea, to know water.

Not does one ned to describe a kiss,

to feel the touch of lips,

and the flare of passion.

And God is passion, and God is the nothingness, that is left after the fire runs out.

And God in, beyond, around, before and after, any of our foolish attempts to describe Him.

And care little about gender, or politics or whatnot.

Only feeble egregors, that we have created get involved in such petty and cruel endeavours.

My God is the God of Beauty and he sees no other sin but heedlessness,

The forgetting, of our true essence.

Which is, only temporary.

For a lost son is not forgotten,

and we can always return to our Father, which is (in) the Present Moment.

And we are always welcomed in the bosom of the Mother

which is the very form of Shunyata.

And all the infinity is hidden in hug of a Mother, in embrace of lovers, in signing of the birds,

in the hearing the grow grass, in the waging tail of a dog…

and all of Creation, which is glorifying God by its very

Existence.

All Creation is a love song for God.

For thise with eyes to hear, and ears to see.

One beautiful Divine synaesthesia.

Is all it takes.

And anything else is mere

speculation.

Amen