Om.
Om.
Om.
Omnipresent.
Omniscient.
Omnipotent.
Om.
Om.
Om.
Om
reality
Through Billions Of Eyes
There never was a me.
There never was a doer.
Just billions of Brains.
Functioning.
Every single Brain.
An Expression Of Life.
Unconditionally.
Not separate from.
The Entirety Of Life.
There is nobody.
Not anywhere.
Just billions of Bodies.
Functioning.
Every single Body.
An Expression Of Life.
Unconditionally.
Not separate from.
The Entirety Of Life.
And yet here You are.
Apparently.
Being what You are.
Doing what You do.
Loving what You love.
And You are Beautiful.
You are Perfect.
You are Life.
God Sees.
Through Billions Of Eyes.
No Matter What
No matter what.
Seems to be happening.
It’s happening by Itself.
And It’s not happening separately.
From Everything Else.
That seems to be happening.
No matter what.
You
If I refer to You.
I don’t mean an imagined owner.
Of The Body.
A thinker of Thoughts.
A doer of Actions.
Because that you doesn’t exist.
I mean the Beautiful, Vibrant, Powerful.
Human Event that You are.
Not separate from.
The Beautiful, Vibrant, Powerful.
Event Of The Totality Of Life.
The Happening Of This Moment.
This.
Nebulae
Nebulae.
And.
Fingernail Clippings.
Far Simpler
It’s far simpler.
For The Brain.
To create the Illusion of a doer.
Than it would be.
For an imagined doer.
To control The Brain.
I Quietly Whispered
I Quietly Whispered.
God?
And Everything Roared.
Every Appearance
Every Appearance.
Appears.
Dances.
And returns Home.
The Home It never left.
In And As Everything
I Am, God.
I Am, Love.
I Am.
I Am.
I Am.
Seeing
Seeing.
Without a seer.
Hearing.
Without a hearer.
Feeling.
Without a feeler.
Thinking.
Without a thinker.
Me-ing.
Without a me.
WHO GROWS THE GRASS? 