Maen sat in watching the raindrops form on the window in her little home in Wanti, everything was beautiful and rang with so many colors, every one was happy and the land set out in beauty the Yomo came to her and the spirit of God moved through, the Shekinah, all things were alight in their splendor, this is true that all beings are free, go out and move freely, and shout the names of love, speak your heart and make love in all ways unto all things within empathy and reason, the trees are alive with goodness and the world lives in peace and harmony, crossing all things, she came to the temple and sat with the old book in her hand, what is that? the tree of life? our broken daggers of innocence flying in the looseleaf nature woman on whom we had all coalesced and thought of God, who is this spirit which moves in the darkness and the light, which brings us all forth, breaking forth from stiffness all true freedoms, breaking from distinctions, that indeed the web is not held in words, what is this prophecy in which we all partake, and make our own way, not turned away nor caused to break the beings of others? My name is Yanadeshno and I come breaking through with ancient truth, pouring out the words, like an old sigil where hidden things come forth, not the words themselves but the patterns, we have all danced and we all come together, what seems so simple is ancient and includes us all, with songs and silence bringing all together as one, and letting them go forth in metaphor, the torah speaks today. I bring mushrooms, respecting their life, leaving them, and bringing them to other places, I know that God is within, the sage, though not limited there, verily everywhere, deep in meditation heaven flows through us all again, if only for a moment, then Earth pours in, it is all formed once more, it shone verily with a light from the beginning, that all our actions were in synch, it was Dana who was the first to know this God, and know that it was good, all the gatherings and doings, that one could go away from the restrictions of the Father, and still be alright, knowing the goodness of nature and the fruits in all things, with a light a compassion coming purely spontaneously that showed them to see, there are no need for the slaves, there is no need for the traditions in which we are so wrapped in, we have lost touch with the original heaven, deeper and deeper we spiral yet it is the most primal which holds the most divine, it is the first and last, it is nature untouched and it has never gone, in our madness we have craved and contorted, it has been good though, and now the Lord said I shall show you the way to bring the wild goodness back, in every face and everywhere I am, I am the way, which is both form and sound, I am the amanita vision which shone through time, throuh every tragedy of this world. Many have tried to claim me as their own, saying I am this and that, I am the neo nazi at the synagogue, communing suddenly with the seeker in contemplation of the words, I am the instantaneous nature of the vision, I am the completion of every spell. I am the life and compassion which runs through it all, askance the imagery, askance the labels, I am the one who sees free of delusion caused by symbology, I am wanti, and I am all places, I am all peoples, all chosen and holy, bringing the collective medicines, it settles every, settles, here. It all fades away, the severity shrinks so much, those words, nay they were not there for their meaning, but as a pure and ineffable prayer, as we read them, our souls came deeper and deeper into a divine ecstasy which is the truth, which God will show you, becoming Goddess, becoming all mythologies, saying now where am I not, and how can I cast myself away? For I am no mere being, nor am I embodied except as all, it is that miracle by which I am personified which is the greatest curse and blessing, but know that which rises in your own spirit, can overcome it, for the truth is always nameless, remaining unwritten, always there is greater and greater, as the people realized in their myriad doings, and the druids came again and traditions were thrown wayside, ownership abandoned, the angels awoke, for they had woven this world, woven in many sacred knots, that we would wake from, seeing the connections which could not be the works of man, strange doings, strange psychic knowings, connections across seas. The angels were the people, were the streets, were living in the trees, everything was alive and all things came to breathe. It was in the spreading of the seeds, selflessly across the land, seeds of the tree of life, know this, for I do not ban, nor do I turn you away, it must be like this, to break away you understand, when the vision lines up so clearly, there is only one way to grow, look deep within, discard the mask, know nothing can harm you, and there is nothing to fear, for all is myself, and just as I look to myself I look to them, all of us islands, memorials and living temples, where awareness had gathered, somehow knowing and seeing all the paths at the same time, all the different beings, different universes, we are the trees, we are the worlds come together, this earth, an amazing thing. In wanti, they wondered when they fell seeming to be asleep, and on earth they wondered seeing the cities in the clouds, which mimicked their own visions and insides, it was the words which did it. So many spirits had conspired to make it true, at the place which seemed to be death, it was truly the silt, the covenant, the covenant you see, for all are God, who know the magic in themselves, just like an old koan are these words, it is Cerridwen, it is Isis and it is the birds, it is Dagda and it is the herbs. Agrimony, oh quiet moon, the beating heart, we wait here, clear now. Passing ourselves, all trying to balance, accidently brushing against one another, but it is one, the one who is many. For a long time, there was disturbance in the forest of Ethan, which was so named, the trees were marked, the fairies came, to become people and the people to become fairies, we were the trees, in that shamanic place, it seemed they were depressed encasing us, what was their message? We must grow still think yourself not apart from nature, not ruling over but flowing with the tides, there is no one in control and yet it still happens. it has been happening since forever, when one suddenly becomes aware of the truth, we call it divine blessing. The portals were set. There were dualities, there were people coming together, it was all time, the mushrooms had healed it, it was not a simple matter but a matter of all our contribution, the doings of the living ones, working together, all the pieces came together suddenly all the religions rang true and shone out beautifully, there was a certain pull but it was like breathing, this is what the magic had done, nothing too extraordinary, except that this is truly miraculous to even percieve, as we let ourselves go back we see that the fairies, always have grown, and when the soul returns, when we all see that we have the power, we are the ones, because we are the completion of awareness it is not a matter of out and inside, one is complete and has returned to the source, never abandoned. I wondered at the strangeness of my family, who seemingly had abandoned me, but it was simply that it was not time for such cultivations because all things are alive, and they lived only in the realm of death, where all else was dead but them. unbound from that paradime as I am unbound from language, simple the word, which opened up the truth, even upon the side of the building next to the temple, the way, the herbs, the brews, we were all equal, and though in the temple they seemed concerned merely with the mundane, I left saying everything is God, God is everything, the nations were undone, for they existed only upon the paper, where everything else was dead, but the truth is all else is alive and it is the paper that is dead, though only relatively so, go to the tree first, go to the visions, which are everywhere, go there in life, or fish in death, he sees it as no difference my brother, who walks the ways of everything leaving a path of love not even knowing it, and they who follow, all do quickly fall. Like followers of the tao, where is confucius in these days, bless him, that he tried as we all did. There is nothing outside of the deepest spark of the spirit and that spark is Wanti, and wanti is all things and places. It is a passing of the spirits, there are many ways beyond merely the physical nothing is ever lost, that is what I meant when I said that you would be as numerous as the dust, and yet just as much never having been, for when the directions caused by delusion meet... when the sutras eclipse the books of God, when the Goddess rises in nonduality, and mischief is earthy and good, know this is the depth of the miracle which is good living. How was I gone from the world? There is no set boundary, I may never have returned it is only by the way of the dream, there is no set way but follow that inspiration for it is the goodness in life she was saying, and she came and we walked about, and it was distinct from the seen world, but just as real, just because I give no outward sign, I am not taxed by the fascism of mundane doings, I am subtle and romantic, does this mean I hold no truth? I have nothing to prove, I merely have pure use, teach this in the schools, and the world tree is blessed, it comes whether or not because life is the school, and all is growing growing, wisdom is endless, everything is one. There was a time InI sat in the rain, the forest was in ribbons, as if it would soon fall, no one did anything we pulled them all down, and sat there where the flowers began to spring up, it was spring, and we set down our seed, again, it cannot be stopped, just a loving within nature, just a kindness, just a charity an offering of goodness a small end to suffering, let the bound ones be free, let them not be cursed by any strange intention or false distinction, and its just good. Yaveyetta! the mountains are alive and the hills, everything, is one vibe, pouring polymorphic good, which goes everywhere and falls no where, for where it falls, falling is a rise, that is the imperfection of wisdom, we all dwell in rising and falling, that is the art of life, and the truth of the flowing stone. We all lend our energies everyday, a blessing comes through, first from the deer and then given to the people, the rabbits know, everything, speaks, ancient ways, rabbit sages. This world of raving, cannot be set apart, through the truth, they try to turn, through it all still we are alive, we are not static, and there never was true conflict, all people know this feel this, all are equal fear no God for God is Love and known by changing form and lack of real violence but peaceful medicine teaching, nor tyrant, be broken from the cults of such dead end seriousness, it can end, though there is a truth to it, all realms come to harmony here, the blessing of Wanti is here. Among all people, suddenly jumping through beings and places. Being awesome, shouting love! fires of spirit, gathering round, fairy gatherings, open to all, for we are one, we are one, call it as you will, http://www.megaupload.com/?d=3XYEMTB3 - tykal - deeper and deeper still (drum n bass mix) let us sleigh, and we shall see what good shall come of these dreams! sled which is no sled mind which is no mind
Life is crazy everything is beautiful, the hands of God are everywhere, nothing is anything but it comes in waves my heart rolls in a sea of You, I don't know if its conventionally, all my failings you have found beautiful, you hold me and rock me, I sing in the old way, the shaman songs come, devoid of language pure sound, something rocking something happening, that peace that vibration, as soon as it comes everything scatters like tiny droplets of mist on a trampoline. Outside I love you, I am washed ashore, I feel nothing, there is no end to it, I percieve nothing. I grab onto the life boat I am thankful in the overwhelming tsunami which is the truth, it all comes and goes, there is a story but it is just a veil, no it is the eternal moment. Love! Love! Rocking in the waking world, nothing matters, all of it is free again without names, we fly but it feels like walking. We had become trees, two trees, joined at the roots, dancing in the universe, among the birds who gave us thoughts, which sparkled, every thought is a divine being, every moment is a careful rendering no, this could not be coincidence, the cow speaks and all of it swells, it is not meaning which I seek, it is something else, something more real, yet more compassionate, more reasonable, something we had in Wanti, something which pours through now, revolutionary, yet there are no guns, there is no foolishness, there is only wisdom, not high up, but just there, just calm, in the rivers, the face of our own spirit, all of us, were there as mirrors, we were doing something, something beautiful, it had to be forgotten, but remembered to, vital and rich as the leaves, I lost myself, souls in flight, among many worlds, shamans, beans, goodness, all the layers peeling back as if that is what they were always waiting to do, in a colorful language, the elf friend spoke to me, we walked around, and saw life, as it had come over it self we felt it deep out there, we knew the pattern, who had weaved it? the spirit, the lights, the lights had done it, it all come through it all was endless. There were mushroom angels and the sky was blue fairies with butterfly wings and birdlike creatures talking to the skies, talking with the clouds, which came from their songs, Up there we flew thanks for the roses, thanks for the flowers the world seemed about ready to explode just for the existence of it all, all the doings how did they sustain eachother, it always happens its just the life flow, its what happens its how thoughts come how effects occur how it all is, I saw it then the webs the pathways of everything, like veins little invisible passages, where dwelled tiny beings of love, tiny beings who were us, dreams of us, it was realer and they knew me there and I was not so different, and here it was El Shaddai, the dragon there at the temple of the spirit, where there was ness, and the amanitas, were symbols of everything. we knew they were the meaning in this subtle world of thought as matter, a cricket in a hat smiled and led us and said it didn't matter, because it was life, it had always come and gone like beating heart, changing seasons, love expanding and shared with all, making us all crazy, but giving a way, which seemed to come from everywhere. Everytime I closed my eyes I would forget myself in you, the Yomo was there, she was the mushroom, the returning one, the one throughout it all kindness, inspiration, soma, hard to see but even in the most mundane she was a person, an old friend, the meanings of the weavings, a spirit dancing in the primal void inside its almost like computers, every thing still so alive a brain, like tree tops, a heart, like a bright center, on both sides and in the middle, in the middle they fairy had come, it made some sense none could have seen then, did they know? yes it could be told i am the truth, i am the praying mantis I am the forest speaking, it was upon her and so many others too all i had ever seen, as messengers, we were, going and going, all us of seeds, guardians, growers, nurturers, oasia, the weren't put there to be destroyed, the tonal they were actually seeds, each letter each idea, each 'normal', each 'system' to live later... something about the universe, something about growing I cried
