The earth is full of those who witness what is seldom heard, and see what is rarely known.
If you can’t sleep, move.
Meaning is the abyss from which terror or joy illuminates everything in their polarity. Moderate the mind and the extremes flow forth in manageable waves of knowing the beyond.
The abyss of the present draws on the desire to control the past and springboards spasms of pain off into everlasting future.
Now is a clouded memory of the old. Then is the anticipation of the Now. Soon is a spasm of uncertain knowing. Maybe is the gradation of dimensionality.
We will know each other again, as we do now and as we did then.
Movement itself is biased against the still. Peace discriminates against war and the living against the dead. Green is not red nor is night day. Fog is not clear and emptiness is not full. We live through differentiation. YET, we flourish in its moderation. War is sometimes needed to maintain a living peace. The living learn from the dead and are stewards of those yet unborn. Go Green and stop red make caution yellow, and night is darkest only before the day breaks. A clearing in fog provides glimpses that God in the fullness of time emptied himself so that we could be immortal. We are flesh and blood, yet spirit and truth flow through our veins; we are bold and often cowardly in our boldness. We hate what we do not know, yet we know not ourselves most of all. Sacrifice creates opportunity and the road less traveled seems to be the best path. We shall know all, for before the End was the Beginning.