Facing these mountains of galaxies
listen to the echo of the eternal, that beats
the whole of the love of the principal
It had to be a loving explosion
that scattered in disordered order
all the beings of oxygen or of stones or of mud.
The eurhythmic cosmos contains a new cosmos
in its origin,
that is the origin of the origin
But melancholy kept affecting
and saw the sweet grieving of galaxies...
He was kneeling:
Come, get up! she said to him;
let's dignify the struggle by smiling
I took a flower of music from the garden of
and it was then that the colours showed themselves to me
spreading the grace of originality
through the pure paths of the seed.
Then I stretched out on a cosmic beach
and said to the Firmament:
"In your vision of deceitful light
you do not let yourself see our most intimate secrets;
perhaps it is prevented by your marvellous knowledge
your marvellous distance.
But, we, we know that your close-by light is
the ancient light of your face,
and for this, like you, we cry..."
The silence of the astral body
saw me, finally!
and astonished me with multicoloured shooting stars
that came to kiss the soles of my feet,
in full plenilunium;
they came as if on horses, orange, red, green,
yellow, with indigo women
who laughed like comets.
Happy, after a short eternity,
I began to stroll harmoniously
following the highway of heaven,
over the cosmic seas,
and their warm tide of balsamic waves.
And I felt in my breast the beating of the multiverses.
Then suddenly, I saw a more intense light.
It was Fire!
a melodious lullaby reached me from its flames
it was music made light
from the emotional constellations,
that adorned the serene imagination of the unfathomable.
I approached stealthily.
One of the universes, who was
smiling, asked me to the concert.
He was a dewy pianist
he seemed from beyond out there, and in the clear night
his tinkling music was overflowing
I came a little closer
till I could make out his eyes
and when I saw him in front of me, I saw them collapse!
they were black holes, and the tinkling was the cosmos.
that had arisen on the mysterious beach
to give us the rhapsody from the
/sea-side of space.
It was the visible whisper of a dream
spilled into cosmogony:
a sphere that wheels through
the Seeing Brain of the infinite.
A bud from a spring past
that manages to glimpse
the sad face of beauty
The hidden catch of the Universe
that materialized with motility
the fine matter of my soul not soul
was expanding astral in the most astral:
my eyes so distanced
that they were meteor shards sifted
through world peace.
Suddenly, almost irredeemable
I turned in my limitless bed,
and was shown the dance of
the zero and the infinite:
they were watching and studying each other
negating each other's space...
one - that was not one -
was meditating; the other,
was singing, suggesting...
out-thought each other,
and they were cheered on
in the stadium of space-time,
throughout the light years.
A savage blast of trumpets
surprised them with a dawn
of heavenly crystal,
and it seemed to me that it was my hands which
placed the beloved dawn in the west of
The hypnotic light went travelling,
flaming and more fickle than
the air of the air.
The cosmos, so near, yet so far
as if it too were dreaming.
But where would I be
all time without time?
In the sweet hour of an afternoon nap
in the sensitive interlude between heaven
and my bed,
falling softly, sailing
on a blue petal, with a crown
dewy with nebulae;
it was the Cosmic Rose,
that I saw without seeing
that was being plucked
my hands not hands
have never finished stripping it of petals and leaves
in the star-lit dusk
of my dreaming heart.
It was like the orgasm,
eraser of limits;
and it was that which meditated in the centre
of the centre of my soul not soul,
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