Chronus Widdershins

As the seconds on my meditation timer count down…

I live a whole uneventful life.

I grow old and die.

 

It is the periodic gongs which remind me…

Punctuating minutes that last months,

And seconds that last years.

Those bronze vibrations pierce the vale.

 

I go looking within.

After a journey– a trek

A battle– with myself

My shadow-doppleganger-nemesis

I die.

Walk away and let go.

 

And then there is a field.

The clouds cast shadows on the curving ground.

I see it from far away at first.

I wonder on the scarecrow?

No.  A man.  Standing.

 

Arms like tiny toothpicks reaching up.

I am speeding toward him now

He is Jesus.

He is me.

And this is a destination.

 

Homunculus Jesus.  

Me.

In the eye of the storm

Of my thoughts, and emotions and memories.

Further away.

They are a trinity feeding on each other.

Swirling about.

Tearing up the place.

 

But here is silence.

Here is the very deeps of me.

And the end.

 

Time breaks down in a black hole.

And Martin Buber told me

That prayer doesn’t exist in time.

Time exists in prayer.

 

I know that when you turn Chronus widdershins…

Each moment can stretch upwards now.

And second that ticks away…

Is pregnant with an etetnity of its very own!

 

And so there is a director’s cut.

And the director is God.

That extends itself inward.

Right when i approach Him

Me

At the moment i put my hand on his heart…

My own heart.

 

And i am already in my own heart

In a moment turned already sideways.

When things go terrifyingly well

When i am neck deep in nothingness

There is a sweet moment

That happens almost never

And it happens

Every

Single

Time.

 

Already in that heart space and time,

I journey to a place deeper still.

Into the heart of the me/not me

Who stands in my heart already.

 

Call it the heart of the heart.

The secret’s secret.

 

It is an open field.

Of course

A man stands there.

 

I am so small now.

I have have gone so deep within.

I am afraid that of where i must go now.

 

This deeper place still.

Strangeness abounds here.

How can this Great Witness

Continue this endless descent.

 

What if the troika

Never ended?

 

Once i fell into the depths of me.

It happens evety time.

I am

      Falling.

I am

       Still falling.

 

If there might be an eternity in every moment

That how long is 3 days spent dead and in hell?

 

That is what i scream

     As i fall.

 

I made smaller

And smaller still.

Each time i enter into

The heart within the heart within the heart withinthe heart!

 

And then…  i am nothing

I

Am nothing

 

I am

Nothing

 

I am!

 

I am a star

A consellation

A nebula.

 

I am the night sky.

Behold my vastness.

 

The smalkest doorway was a threshold to this

Grandeur!

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