The Spirit of Truth

When you look at the palm of your hand,
you are only looking at your living dream
that resides here, trapped in you and you in it.

When your destiny draws your lines,
you are water that cannot come out of its streams
as long as it is a whole in a pair with itself.

But He said, “The Father in me, and I in the Father,”
and accepted the only fact
that he was only a dream of the ancient times of the Father’s mists,
and took away from himself the only pair of his whole
and laid it in the palm of your hand,
while you are dreaming in your dream.

Now He is waiting to wake up from the ancient times
in the palm of your hand
and He will rise
like you get up in the morning.

No one in this world is chosen for something,
but everyone can dress in the clothes of the chosen one –
the cold for others and the darkness for himself –
as if he were counting down his days,
but even he alone does not know why.

But everyone is equally naked,
and only he who remains naked in front of a fellow human being
is like the dew and grace of silence
in the spring fields on a clear sunny day.

To each other, we are a world of pre-birth,
which we create at our own will.
And so human is the king of his own world within this world.

But only he who, in his own helplessness, feels others as himself
is on a path that revives,
for no one can touch his own pre-birth —
just as a light cannot extinguish itself,
but can ignite all others if it extinguishes itself
from all forms of captivity into space and time of reflections.

But woe to him who ends up in his own captivity
of a foreign world of eternal reflections.
He will go where he does not want to go and has never wanted to,
although he led everyone else there at all costs.

Your only state
is the state of your pre-birth.

In all other states you are trapped
and woe to everyone who honours them for their own,
for they fight only for their eternal cell of solitary confinement.

The time has come,
directness is coming.
In some, one is leaving
and in some, one is coming.
And you will know
that you have never been alone.

Only our own world of the horizontal
determined the world of the great and the world of the small,
the world of the white and the world of the black,
the world of the right and the world of the left
in the name of God here among us.

Yet the only world of the unknown X
is everyone in himself
the one and only God’s name X of his own world.

But the time of the great always flowed away,
and the time of the small always grew,
and in this time, in the final stage of the vertical,
divided only to the living and to the dead.

And the great ones, in whose veins
the blood of the naively small ones flowed,
will become only Y strangers to the small ones,
but the small ones
day by day grow larger Y to each other.

And the world will turn
for too many on the head
and for many on the feet of a human.