I to I
In a glance,
a look,
a stare,
a gaze,
is a moment where the finite and the infinite meet –
a co-creative buss with the divine,
entranced by a bustle of the heart.
Peering, we see ourself in the orbs of another,
everything exposed,
nothing nuanced
in the wide open spaces of finite
and the narrow corners of the infinite;
where and when nothing and everything become one,
where and when nothing and everything make sense,
where and when fate and destiny meet free will and choice,
where and when these paradoxes are suspended,
where and when the greatest suspense is in these paradoxical points.
It is a copulation,
a conception,
a birthing of the now
in the gaze.
Time, in all its forms, takes a humble seat
and there is only the moment –
the moment in a gaze.
Some call it a holy moment:
some-things happen,
some-things shake loose,
some-things come undone,
some-things restore and renew –
the some-things,
the no-things,
the every-things
dissolve, fractalize, and absorb
into the holographic
oneness of unabiding nondual symmetry.
It is where and when unity is realized,
it is where and when spirit becomes inspired,
it is where and when everything ineffable is described,
to the tune of soul-speak.
There is a song
sung in the eyes
radiating harmoniously and openly
whatever it is
that is behind them.
Do you hear that song in your eyes?
Do you sing that song in mine?
Steadfast in the journey of us
we dissolve into the melodic fairytale
even if only for the dash of an instant.
This epic adventure is spun in the look,
a myth only the moment can tell,
a story that suggests there is no story
a fantasy designed in the imaginative eye.
We read the entirety of one, of the one, of oneness.
It is truth in the eyes of another, when you see yourself
it is truth in the your vision, when you see the Self.
Its fleeting appearance is infinite, eternal and bold.
It crushes all antagonism, all separation.
It is a unified gaze,
locked and loaded.
It is explosive in it is tranquility
and tranquil in it is explosiveness.
It is a launch-pad and crash-pad.
It takes us everywhere and nowhere,
and around again, and around again, and around again.
It is the home of the soul and the soul of the home,
a reservoir of the richest regalities,
a volcano of vibrant vitality.
It expresses the love of being
and reveals the being of love,
the beloved,
and the lover.
They are one and done,
wrapped and twirled,
twisted and commingled
in a dance,
a cosmic boogie,
a divine disco,
a human drama
unfolding in the motion of the stillness.
The gaze,
the connection,
the viewing,
the look,
reveals all
leaving nothing unsaid, undone, unheard, unfelt –
it is the souls’ satoris.
It is a kaleidoscopic view
into the kaleidoscope
of life’s mystery,
of death’s serenity –
in the scope of divinity,
in the breadth of infinity,
for all of eternity…
