A piece of our one.
10 years. 2 friends. 1 World.
A gloom sets over those whose dreams get trapped in our collectively built tunnel vision cages.
No exit plan, no emergency call button, there are no armed guards rushing in to save humanity.
We’re alone. Left exposed to the elements. Pieces of light…wilting in our own built darknesses.
Swarms, like scavengers on pursuit for the fame with craze in their eyes, sets of make believe set for their chase. Once you’re eyes are a witness, shields within erect, “hurry, all that is revealing.” All that is in-visible goes hidden to those not within. The chains release, the pain no longer stays, but the function within the darkness only becomes more unclear. The outer vision silent within as the dreams of others in that mob crazy eyes chase—chase the opportunities that come easy. Effortless, water-like…flowing with peace, not many…many are hungry.
That energy can swirl about, hovering overhead like hawks aiming to poke the eyes our of those that see through the mirrors reflection of fakeness, but still there is protection. An encased vault of dreams, hung in the self’s skeleton closet—where bones are covered in dirt from the list of past things that had to be attended to along the way. Busy focusing on how to survive all of the tasks of the to-days, the dreams still protected a peace of our piece on their own.
We don’t have to raise with effort. . . focus on the rays. Easier said than done when you’re trapped with a grumbling belly, a mind of swirling energies, and only a sky as a roof as your resting. Do resting dreams escape the elements of society’s cruelty for those whose hearts find no peaceful resting? Where mind is at one with self, no thinking, no dwelling, only inner heart connecting resting, is there no faulty where those inner swirls of daydreams and rest dreams keep meeting?
An ascension with a de-scension may be needed? Can we all focus switch from mind to heart in our dailies? A vibration where there is no status from class to class, but simply a friend in reality where we’re all alive dreaming?
One who with less material possessions than fit in backpack, lives day to day pondering life’s race that forced him so much pain. No exit plan, no family emergency contact, a light filled being, dwelling in dreams of memories he won’t be able to reach back to, seeking dreams on fast forward that he can only look hopelessly to.
What is faith when we’re orphaned in the material World, does a vibration of light lift the wings and allow those to fly in the resting dreams at least? Where their hardened pillow switches form into a feather bed of luxury and their passions see praises and uplifting?
A dreamworld we could build, if only our hearts would choose. In synch with passing clouds and rays of light, emitting the truth from the center with no effort…if only we’d all choose. Until then . . . we keep passing that path by, leaving light on sidewalks and pillows with silent dreams.
1 World. 1 Humanity. Don’t pass the path of peace by.