The Spirit of Truth

Don’t play chess
on the black-and-white field of your life,
with the human inside you,
but let the human inside of you
plays out his part with your hands,
so that you won’t become
a black-and-white field of eternal kamikaze.

The only unknown of creation
is knowledge which eternally exists before the thought
and the thought never catches up with it.

And the only temptation is the thought
which thinks it can overtake any knowledge
and arrange it on its own.

Only wisdom
is laying into knowledge without own thoughts.

Do not demand of anyone
to stand before your face as he is,
if you can stand before his face as you are.

But woe to him,
who cannot do that
for before your face
he will instantly lose his eyes, his face and his body
within the pure spirit of life through you.

Everything that is coming closer will be coming closer forever
and everything that is going away will be going away forever
behind the last curve of this world.

And you only an addressee,
to whom the sky will write out his name
or an eternal sky without a title.

Someone is the letter A
and someone master of the alphabet.

Day by day A is getting smaller among the masters of the alphabet
and the day will come
when the last hour will ring to the masters of the alphabet,
while A will quietly rise into the world of the word.

The world of man
woven from one thread of objective laws
as a subjective reality
is ending.

Everything that is woven,
will be torn from the last loop
into one thread for all others
and that is you
here and now.

And thread by thread will be woven
into the law of eternity.
Only for itself your own thread
will no longer be able to make a loop.

Presence is one,
only man one to another two inside of it,
but he who does not leave his own
is falling into the bottomless third.

You were experiencing the world of the little
and inside of it dreamed of the world of the great
and walked the long, long dusty path of this world.
But where you sat down, the dream passed
and the breeze of the heart of the little world woke you quietly.

You were experiencing the world of the great
and inside of it dreamed of the world of the little
and walked the long wide road of this world.
But where you sat down, the dream passed
and the storm of despair of the great world woke you up.

Blessed are you,
traveller of the long, long, dusty paths of this world.

Presence is the universal self
in which you only dreamed of yourself,
righteously subordinated in front of everything
or unjustly raised above everything.

But the thread of the spirit
with which you intertwined
or unfolded your dreams
is a thread in the bond of foreignness
within the vertical wall of your ownness
until it unfolds.

From here on
you will walk as your own self for the first time
into the chosen world of your ownness
or into the world of foreignness in everything.