In the silence of now there is an emptiness of being, which has its natural place in the core of flesh itself. It is always possible to make the journey towards the inside of now, towards a stillness that is pregnant with existence in its totality. The world emanates from, and is fulfilled, by this sole intention. Yet it is so far away in the depths of history, personal as well as collective.
From this stillness, empty, silent spime, a gentle timbre resonates through all heavens and the single earth of every universe. It carries from within the marks of a position echoing the world as fulfilment of a silent mind. From the heart of being the sacred blood of my soul pours away and returns to the horizon of my world right at the centre of it all.
Where is my master now, his golden shoes lost in the stream, his footprints in the sand of the seashore. Where in memory hides the seed of an eternal bliss. Now Here else than Nowhere, and the eye of a deer is gazing from the forest depth.
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