The Spirit of Truth

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.

He who rushes,
rushes from light into the darkness.
For him who is stopping
out of the mists in front of him
views and paths are clearing.

Fertilization of the present is universal,
while stopping is individual.
This is why in this world you are universal
and in the other an individuum.

Spirit is the human’s unconscious part
like the soil you plant
the plants of your silent consciousness in.

Be a merciful gardener,
so that in their time
your plants will grow to the sky
and that your field will not be outgrown
by the weeds and thorns
of foreign consciousness inside of you.

You live in a neutral present
the only one still unfertilized,
the undissolved reality,
which is unfolding in front of you
as a random fan of the growth of the future
and is closing behind you
as lawful dying into the past.

Woe, if time will end up behind you
as your spindle unwinds
and you will become a prisoner
of the lawful demise of eternal fields.

And blessed are all,
who have deducted themselves from their spindle,
because time in front of them
will be their silent muse of eternal life.

And the spindle of life,
which was standing still
is standing still in the last days.

Remember,
when freedom comes
and you will no longer be trapped in virtuality,
you will be free only without your name,
for your own name
will only twist you into your own circle.

When your acceptance
becomes equal to your decision,
the two join
into the one and only.

Everything has its consciousness,
only man has echoes,
which in devotion
discover the secret of consciousness.

Death is a predator,
who needs victims for its spider webs
to live
and walks around
in all possible glitters
inside the squares of rights.

Only allowed life in yourself
unties you of it
out of which you were born.