When a son grows up,
the best mother is the one
who forgets about him
so that the son can decide if he still has a mother.
At such a time, the entire human race is now,
and there is no one who can say,
“I was born by myself,”
for you can only die by yourself
if you do not allow your mother,
as she allowed you in your infancy,
and who now is calling you
in every blade of grass in front of you.
When you return to where you came from,
eternity will find a place in you and say,
“My son, you walked the paths of my non-existence
and played your existence to me to exist.
Why go into the abyss of eternal torment,
if you can give me a place within yourself?”
Here you are measured by infinity,
but when you will be extinguished,
infinity will be measured through you
like a star whose light never goes out,
although it has long since disappeared.
What is only an image in oneself
is life in another.
So do not live the mystery of the unknown
in your own circle of hope and despair
and do not lay flowers on the altar of your image,
but take your cross of helplessness to the end
to pour the world of images from a circle to an eight (loop),
to each other into streams of living life.
There is no ultimate truth,
has not been and will not be,
only the creative eternity is clothing you:
it ends with you if you have taken it only for yourself
and begins with all who have clothed each other
just as the Lord each one of us.
For each of us is a sleeping creativity
as long as you yourself are the creator
and Jesus the sacrificed creativity of eternity.
You were born in the second,
and in the third you laid up the hopes of your image,
but only in your bitterness
did you carry the cross of the first in you.
But when you, the gatekeeper,
unlock the door of the first within you,
the third will be the judge between the two,
but the second you live now, will never be again.
You are someone in the world of some world,
and if you mature, you step out of the world of worlds
into the orbit of insight,
while others fall
like stars from the sky into this world.
And when you mature,
you will step from your own world of worlds
to the vast fields of eternity with stars in your hands,
while others will only sink
into the underworld of their world of their own existence
into the eternal fire of the birth of stars.
There was a world in a world of some world,
all flourishing,
and He, who fertilized it on the cross
to bear its fruit.
And after Him, a world in a world of green fruits
ripening until the day of the harvest.
And now, there is a world that is extinguishing into seeds,
but from the seeds sprouts a new world
that will never be extinguished again.
Blessed are you
if you are the seed of the only real world
that is born in you.
Everyone spoke, thought and acted
of their own free will.
Someone out of echoes in themselves,
others out of themselves in echoes,
but no one out of reality.
However, the echoes of echoes are building a hologram,
as the word of the word is giving birth to the word
and blessed are you, if the word is born in you
and you in it the word of the word
and no longer groan of the echoes of your own words.
Your consciousness is a free radical
that can be aware of the unconscious in yourself without content,
for every content of yours is your world of the unconscious,
which you serve unknowingly in the name of your existence.
Through it you exist before you exist,
in front of everything and everyone
and no one and nothing can stand in front of you
as the eternal light of life.
A bird was calling a bird,
but in the birds only echoes
inviting into themselves.
And the bird recognized the echoes
and fell silent
to recognize the bird.
The Spirit of Truth