Between the greater-soul & fleshed reality are particles, the final tangible reaches of our thought, seeming like something singing out beyond the rugged tabletops of testable existence, & if we had eyes to see this outlandish world, we might see a swirling of mysterious cloudy forms, a blending of ourselves & our surroundings in a mystical dancing light, in salty jewels, our cloudy arms & hands would try to reach our cloudy chairs & sink & blend into a mad phantasmagoria…
We should be afraid until we learned that we were part of it, our bodies swirling clouds of atoms; but what’s important is that we would be seeing at the gate just beyond which is the home of Mystery, source of Soul, which is our truest life, our centrum…
Now where would we be if we stepped forward, through the gate, through the mysterious clouds of unknowing?
This makeshift shadowy world is a metaphor which is our chariot of choice, our light-inducting dark-proof vehicle ready to ride the road & river of space & time, to deliver us from evil, which is all that isn’t, in the vision of the cloud-bodied hungry soul, when it goes through the gate to the mystery of unanswering love..
We see from there how all things flow outward toward wisdom, & back upon themselves toward joy, & that love is always answering, is the cloud formed into self, which is others & all, at once. E.M. Shorb
We stand always on this side of the gate looking through to what is on the other side…it is light sometimes, it is dark at others…dare we go through?…in his brilliant poem Shorb says it for us..
Watercolour on Arches Not Paper
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