Hole in time

Every phenomenon is a hole in time.
The secret of living nature, however,
is the opening of the first view
as a camera obscura,
which turns a black-and-white image upside down through a hole
and uses an aperture to regulate the wavelength
as light through the holes in time.

But the hierarchy gives birth to the inner (second) view,
which in the rules of the secondary
turns the image on its feet
as gravity orders matter into their orbits.

Now is the time of the third view,
where you see the one who looks.
And blessed are all the sons of the third view,
who defended the existence in the first view,
felt in the second view
and took farewell in the third view
and entered the world of the eternal view,
while the sons of first view are sinking into darkness.

A flower among the flowers of eternity

When twelve months have passed,
you are on the threshold of a year that is not,
for the year in you has passed,
but before you only your filled sheet
of a black hole without a paper.

But if you are no more
the light of light is in you,
like a ball of light,
which oscillated like a hole in ether,
through the eye of a needle for thousandths of seconds of passing
and counted down the minutes in your hours
which in your world were days.

If you left your days behind,
subtracted the minutes and seconds of the drawing of time,
and discarded the blank sheet —
the original sin of the temptation of your existence —
the ball of light will blossom
and you be a flower among the flowers of eternity.

Mother’s call

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.

Creative eternity

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.

The vast fields of eternity

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.

The seed of the only real world

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.