23 Aug 2010

In quiet mystery the everyday things around me reveal some of their underlying forms. All things strangely like one another, and only on some shallow level are they different. Such goes for human beings, too, for us to see if we are able to call everyone brother or sister, as we are supposed to. Once I saw the face of Christ on a streetcorner bum, who was asleep in the city night, a lesson there, if I am to fathom some of the deeper things. Does God truly know the course of every quantum particle? Or does He, too, only deal with the equations of our physics? And the truly splendid things of the world: I saw for an instant how all of it is dust. Useful for a time, like these hands, but to dust, too, shall they all return. And I saw it plain before my mind’s eye, that the only thing that is real is love, that all else is merely illusion. For God is love, and is the I AM…. In quiet mystery the things around me fade as I close my eyes, the mystery not why things disappear, but why they stay at all, in place, for the briefest of moments.

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:01 am

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