 |
| Mei-mei Berssenbrugge [Steve Evans] |
Glitter
1.
A wood violet has
bloomed, when I come back from my walk in early spring.
I stop and welcome
it, cooing, walking around it, not as if I were floating, but the
surface of the world circled unfurling petals.
Person and violet
with so little in common my voice reveals as a resonance of
unmanifest identify.
The violet looking
back, loses objectivity and enters the expansion of recognized
things.
You could say our
identities reach out to encompass the forest environment, like
telepathy: a moment opens space by rendering it transparent in
intensified consciousness.
Others embrace
weather and wild land as their means to the supra-sensible; in
violets, it’s emotional desire for spring light: glitter, the
mirror.
Connection, often
the form emotion takes, appears to me as a visual image.
2.
Thoughts are sent
out by one rock informing other rocks as to the nature of its
changing environment, the angle of sun and temperatures cooling as
night falls, and even its (loosely called) emotional tone changes,
the appearance of a person walking, who’s not appropriately
empathic.
Thoughts meet and
merge with other thoughts sent out, say, from foliage and other
entities.
I tell you, your
own thoughts and words can appear to inhabitants of other systems
like stars and planets to us.
Intensities of
thought, light and shadow between us, contain memories coiled, one
within the other, through which I travel to you, and yet are
beautifully undetermined.
For what you say
to me is not finished within my thought or memory, but you grow there
and change, the way a shadow extends as light passes over it in
Akashic emptiness.
You grow through
what I have to say to you, as a tree grows up through space, then
what I have to say changes.
That’s why we
need the identity of our physical forms.
Here, we don’t
know what’s behind physical stars and planets.
3.
The tree
encompasses its changing form, while ego, my self of physical
experience, looks in the past for something to recognize.
When he looks into
my eyes, she said, I see adoration that makes me feel wonderful.
Then, I can do
things.
Here we mean sun,
alteration, myself are actions.
Imbalance between
identity’s wish to maintain and intrinsic drives results in the
exquisite by-product, consciousness of self, so richly creating a
reality that seems plastic, but continues like a light beam, an
endless series of beams.
Creativity breaks
through identity, and my awareness flows through transparency as
spontaneous synchronous phenomena experienced with others today.
Its light and
weather spectacles are fantastically aesthetic.
4.
The moment it sees
me, the violet grows more deeply purple and luminous to me.
Its looking
collapses violet frequency into a violet in the world, cohering
attention and feeling.
What I perceive as
a flower in woods may be the shadow of a flower-being’s action in
fairyland, a transcendent domain of potentia.
Transparency I
imagine moving through is being through, not actually seen or
touched, not the buzzing of a million invisible bees.
What you call
feeling, like connective tissue or vibrating lines between us,
represents this vitality.
And I prefer the
term vitality to time.
In fairyland, all
violets are simultaneous.
No comments:
Post a Comment