What you feel is life, what you live is another story.

Author: tomgrasso (Page 32 of 38)

Such Eternity

Dream to dare this instance,
When she touches me
She caresses my skin
Whispers softly in my ear
Allowing me but to live this moment.

Find for me a second
As she holds me in her hands
Stroking the essence of her man
Teasing me with the anticipation of what is to come
Yet allowing me to find no greater pleasure than what is.

Share with me no other
As she guides me to her essence
We connect as Beings made as one
Rhythmic movement spawned as time stands still
For all things disappear in what we are.

We collapse into each other
This is no end but the continuation of the beginning
For as she whispers softly the promise “I love you”
I can feel such eternity in her soul.

To what does this journey begin?

This morning before I left for a meeting in upstate New York, I had some time to enjoy nature and seek its wisdom. One can always find solace and wisdom among the things of God, and as you become centered in this place you find God within you. Times like this help bring clarity, peace and perception back to Being, and help shed light on the insanity of unconsciousness that claims the soul regularly.

As the bright red sun peeked through clouds slightly above the distant horizon, I had the opportunity to feel the presence of God in the stillness. I just sat there, enjoying the very slight breeze in my face, the warmth on my skin, and the feeling of connectivity that this stillness offers. It is in moments like this that Being is confirmed, life’s promise renewed, and focus brought back on to purpose rather than pursuit.

I love the sunrise, it is hard to find a more still and quite time on Earth. It is so still, so quiet, that yes, the break of dawn is a sound deafening to the soul.

I watched the birds fly and listened intently not only to the songs they offered but the silence that allowed them to be. I wondered what those birds thought of us as they circled high above in all areas of our home. I wondered if they could even relate to our insanity, to our reluctance of purpose in pursuit of things, and I realized at that point that the bird is surely smarter in most moments than we are.

I felt the asphalt turn to grass (I walk barefoot regularly), and wondered if grass could think how it would judge those of us who walked upon it. I wondered if the soles of our shoes protected the grass more than we believe they protect us. I came to realize that in its not being able to judge us as anything, the grass was truly more aware of its purpose than we are of ours.

I came to rest upon a large tree, one of several that I saw as I made my way through the mountains of upstate New York. I noticed how the leaves pointed toward the sun, partially curled by the dryness of the ground where it was destined to set its roots. I realized that the tree never asks for more than it needs, nor uses more than God gives it, and yet this tree will most likely outlive me and possibly my children. It bears no signs of stress in its thirst, no signs of frustration at not having a more beautiful place on which to rest, and yet there it is as strong as intended serving a purpose not beyond itself.

It was quite evident at that moment that we are all connected to these Beings, to the birds, to the grass, to the trees, to all life enjoying its unique existence on this home. I was reminded of an old native American saying, “there is no tree so foolish as to have its branches fighting among themselves.” A tree is so aware of its purpose that it serves that intelligence without the struggle of things that don’t run in line with that purpose. It has a time to sprout, a time to grow, and a time to die. In the short time between its birth and death, it [I]serves[/I] a purpose, perhaps invisible to most things of thought, but there nonetheless.

All beings in this universe serve the same purpose. And what separates humans on this planet from all other beings is the diversion from purpose to pursuit, from intelligence to stupidity, from awareness to unconsciousness. And while you may be judging me and this prose, a vast world of possibilities escapes your grasp in the moment you waste not seeking purpose inside your soul.

To find your purpose, just stop thinking about it. What inspires you? What does your Being do [I]when you do not think[/I] about being? When you are no longer seeking you can only hope but to find. When you are no longer thinking you can only be in stillness. When you are in stillness you can feel the presence of God.

In the very near future, a great change will take place on this earth. Out of the fire will rise a new Earth and a new Spirituality. The meek shall inherit the Earth, and war and violence will cease to exist. We will endure great suffering, and some will see the end to their existence while others will see a change in theirs. People will no longer seek a collective identity, or any identity, nor will they judge others. They will be as the grass, the tree, and the bird, serving an intelligence far greater than their own, in a way that offers light to all. The journey begins the day you become aware of that which makes you blind.

“Ask and you shall receive, seek and you shall find…”

Peace.

My Jihad

To stand on the sidelines
Not to fight for something unAmerican
Is truly the most patriotic of duties.

To stand idly by
And to not kill someone not your enemy
Is truly the most honorable action.

To take that 20 footer and still find love in your heart
That is the most human of actions.
Even if it seems more and more unlike the humans you know.

To be but a glimmer of peace
In a nation striving for anything but
Is God’s clear commandment for us all.

To love thy neighbor
Although thy neighbor is an ass
Is what all that of God has taught.

To seek for love as your neighbors lob bombs
Does not make one less honorable than those who lob them
It is the most honorable of work.

So, while you master war
I will master peace, in the essence of that which made me
In that I will fight until I die.

Change 1

Bygone eras remain as thus
The truth we think is part of us
Yet truth can change in but a tick
Yet the self remains as sick.

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