In the dream world of the great man,
the reality is so small
that even the largest cathedrals in the world
cannot preserve it.
Only in the little man’s yard
can a frog sing its night song.
In the dream world of the great man,
the reality is so small
that even the largest cathedrals in the world
cannot preserve it.
Only in the little man’s yard
can a frog sing its night song.
Nothing what you fought for exists.
Only the future draws your horizons.
But only what you have allowed
will rise quietly like you.
If you trusted in the absence of your own presence,
your presence would be given to you through everything
and you would no longer be a martyr,
a prisoner of your own presence without limits.
Whoever has control over his dream in the body is a logician.
Whoever has control over his dream in the soul and the body is a poet.
And has control over the dream in the spirit, the soul and the body is a wise man.
But he who has no control over his dream in the spirit, the soul, and the body is a fool,
for there is no form above man
that would control the dream with the veil of its existence,
but man himself is only a veil weaving into his existence an escaped dream.
You do not exist from any side
until the other side is born.
If you have accepted it, you will be born out of it.
If not, you will sink into it,
because your side is not, has never been, and never will be,
even if you believe in it as a believer in yourself and in your power.
In acceptance of the other side,
all free fantasy over the whole human race,
will become the Holy Spirit and in non-acceptance the evil spirit,
for the side of your belief will disappear like a mirror image.
When you have nowhere to go outside,
you will take the first steps inside.
You have been given the place of human.
Will in this place
human trample the beast
or beast trample the human,
you decide for yourself.
There are no more subjective worlds
and there is no one who could pour his will
into reality.
Only reality will flow
into all eternal faces
and blessed are the faces of pure hearts.
When nothing speaks about everything,
it means nothing to those who are.
When everything speaks about nothing,
it means everything to the nameless.
But between nothing and everything only silence
and the voice of one crying in the wilderness.
It is finished,
because the day of everything and nothing has come
and there are no more rainbows across the sky,
only the direction remains the same.
He who is outside like a rear-view mirror,
will eternally sink into himself.
He who has remained within,
will step through the gates into eternal heavens,
for the gates are open.
You haven’t slept in your body
nor in His, sacrificed for you,
you were only choosing between options in your dreams.
Will you finally enter His body
as a child mother’s embrace
or enter your own embrace without a human?
The time to wake up has come,
for your embrace is fulfilled
to except others or yourself.
He who hunts will be caught,
and he who releases will be released,
for your life is a bird in your hands.