There’s no loss in a reach for the sublime, still success rates vary. Note fates of saints and philosophers, of mothers steady on the path: A little bliss, a little enlightenment. Love. I paint a warning on the clouds: Don’t be hasty, ask only for what you reason to be true and may I suggest you don't assume symbols mean a thing or the thing that symbols are said to represent. Symbology is creative guesswork born in none of the chakras. Don’t trust your eyes, practice patience, listen. Bliss-filled, you will die and shed the body, what was it there for, anyway. You can’t train one eye on sin the other on perfection. Ah, you perceive The One to be dual. This means you've turned apostate and a traitor in some folks’ minds but your confusion is sincere, which is more than can be said for many folks. For a time you’ve watched stars flare gasp and die. You’ve gauged risks. Let yourself be singed.
[Sarah Sarai, June 14, 2013] [written because you want to know if you can maintain a series of prose poems]
[beautiful artwork by Hayao Miyazaki]