whether to build an Empire . . .

October  9th,  1997

 

For Whom It May Concern

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perhaps I could write a conventional, conversational paragraph . . . after all, it was the preferred mode of voicing my heart and mind for what seems like forever . . . although, I must warn you, I have a tendency to slip into ~uniVerse~ without being aware of it . . .

beyond my work, and family, and the ever-present awareness of the blessings of both, my time is centered around an obsession called The Story . . . a symphony, if you will, which illuminates both its creation, and its fulfillment . . . and because each event, person, and circumstance in my life is a part of this melody, my first obligation, is . . . to listen . . .

my endeavor is to understand the process of living, and our subsequent spiritual progression, and to determine how the lessons illustrated before us become the knowledge, and therefore the reason, ever woven within the fabric of our humanity . . . and through this collective wisdom, comes the significance of our purpose, within the tapestry, God’s grand Design . . .

beneath the surface of our ordinary existence lies a rhythm, or balance, or essence, that binds our idea of spiritual oneness with our sense of place, or belonging, within this universe . . . and I am truly fortunate enough to have been blessed with the gift of knowing how to hear the sound of this extraordinary tale . . .

and the sound I hear, is Light . . . and The Light, has penetrated deeply into the corridors of my heart, moving as liquid, as phantom, as butterfly, toward the transformation of each and every Truth, into the words and images on each and every page, where I wait, patiently, until all have passed through the gates of your infinite awareness . . . and I, remain, the last man, standing, before you . . .

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deep in The OurGlass

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The Coming True

 
 
 
 
 
 
We have spoken of the Remembrances,  the tectonic shifting of a grand Paradigm,
 
the Parade of Moments that make up this Symphony of a Life,  the taking hold of
 
every Blessing before its echo fades into SumWhere,  and cherishing it All,  for 
 
All it is worth,  and realizing,  what it is to be a part of this Flow of undeniable 
 
Splendor and Grace,  to have been so stunned into shedding uncountable 
 
tears,  by awe,  by Love,  or touched by an Essence so infinitely beyond 
 
Wisdom and Compassion,  to have had my soul laid bare,  inside 
 
the silence of unspeakable Sadness,  to have quenched this 
 
ageless thirst of my Longing with a river of such terrible 
 
Beauty,  to understand the flaws in the very fabric 
 
of my Existence,  and so too the designs
 
sewn by no hand but my own,  while 
 
I stand humbled still by every act
 
of every Kindness ever left,  by
 
those I have been so blessed 
 
to know,  the Jewels adorning
 
the Richness of my Days,  and 
 
All are now present,  here on this,
 
      the very Threshold,  of All my Dreams . . .
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in The Silence, of Regard

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All Things Clear

(  More,  than Ever  )

 

 

it is no longer about who or what I do not have,  or have so recently lost,

but of a far deeper,  and more meaningful Embrace,  within The Arms

of every Blessing now held in a Symphony of Moments that

      colors this Sunset of My Days left here on Earth . . .

 

and of Those I imagine still,  with such everlastingly beautiful sadness,

I can only hope They are quite safe,  and quite sound,  and Their every breath

fills Their sky with unspeakable Wonder,  and a Peace like no other tells Them

that Their Days will be long savored,  and abundant,  and spent so very

     far away from harm,  and well within the absence,  of fear . . .

 

yet alas I am diminished,  for in the purpose,  place or proximity once

filled by Their glorious Presence,  there endures only a whisper of an echo

of What Was,  so,  time and again I turn to Remember,  where They dwell, 

      whose Memory holds nothing less,  than The Best Days,  of My Life . . .

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