consciousness

  • The Language of Imagination

    The Language of Imagination

    Everything is a language
    not spoken, not bound by tongues..
    A logical song humming
    from the womb of possibilities,
    a picture painted
    without brush or hand.

    Vision is the echo
    of imagination’s polarity
    its mirror, its opposite charge
    light bending where thought begins,
    where silence writes in sparks.

    Everything is nothingness.
    No explosion, no beginning
    only a portal that flickers
    for the span of a heartbeat.
    A spark, brief as breath,
    dissolving into the next,
    and the next,
    and the next…

    We are the witnesses,
    standing at the edge
    of an infinite horizon.
    Each word—a world,
    a new universe unfolding.
    Your belief—your reality.
    Your gaze—a kindling.
    We are the dream,
    and the dreamer,
    and the space between.

    To observe is to birth light.
    Light reveals an event
    yet the irony of its magic
    is that we only see the shadow,
    the negative of the film.

    The true picture
    is not for eyes alone.
    It is the hum beneath the skin,
    the echo after the note,
    the shape of the amorphous
    between the stars.

  • The Certain Uncertainty of Becoming

    The Certain Uncertainty of Becoming

    All that is good in life
    is not always better
    and not everything that is better
    is good.
    Risks and rewards
    are both good and bad
    at the same time,
    swaying in the equilibrium.

    True contentment
    is not mere acceptance
    but choice-choosing
    to step into the unknown.
    The true essence
    is not necessarily rooted
    in the certainty
    of what is visible,
    as much as it rests
    in embracing the uncertainty
    within every decision
    we dare to take.
    This is faith:
    a recognition and trust
    in the unseen,
    and the roles we play
    in this universe
    and in our existence.

    We are like a single cell
    in the body of the universe-
    an infinitesimal part,
    unseen, yet integral.
    Although small,
    we carry the essence of life,
    steering it on this course.
    We are participants
    and reflection of a universe-
    that creates,
    writing the story itself.
    Our lives are mirrors
    showcasing experiences back
    to the source or the higher forces,
    by which otherwise
    they might not sense it.

    The higher spirits send out
    their frequency signals
    to neither interfere
    nor react
    but rather to harmonize
    with the soul of being:
    a state untouched and untainted
    by the usual chaos of life.
    Let those who live
    engage with those living,
    and let beings connect
    with being.
    The gods we have created
    are ours and only our own;
    they are symbols
    of truths we seek
    and fears we cannot escape.

    We set them up ironically
    from our eclipse
    of inner light.
    Equally, every path goes somewhere,
    with them all together leading
    to an interconnected memory.
    Creation and submission
    are not opposites
    but parts of the same cycle.
    And those superior beings
    we imagine exist
    only because we dared
    to romance them into being.
    They act as a reminder
    of our capacity to co-create
    as well as to be co-created
    by the vast universe.
    The observer observes
    the creator
    so that the creator
    can be.
    The universe is
    a lucid dream, alive
    because we are.

    Every step we take,
    every decision we make,
    tallies on the infinite
    weave of life.
    There is meaning
    in walking a path
    only because walking one
    reveals more of who
    we already are.
    We realize the complexity
    of living our stains,
    in that we live
    in our perishableness
    and touch upon
    growing infinity.
    We so casually are named
    moments of eternity.
    We are, yet we move
    across the boundlessness,
    our actions spreading
    a broad ripple across it.

    To truly live is
    to accept this paradox
    as it unfolds-
    a paradox of uncertainty
    and the interconnectedness of life.
    To find peace
    not in certainty
    but in the vulnerable mystery
    of existence.
    This is where authentic contentment
    shines; it becomes alive,
    dynamic, and anchored
    in every breath
    and in the awareness
    that every moment
    holds the potential for
    creation and connection.
    Contentment fills meaning
    into imagination.

    We are the creators
    of meaning
    and the architects
    of experiences.
    The gods we quest for
    are within us,
    born of our togetherness, longings,
    fears, and aspirations.
    We are those making;
    for the act of creating,
    choosing, we adhere
    to the eternal dance of life.

    This dance also teaches
    that the way is truth.
    The beauty of life lies
    in the whole journey-
    not in the moments
    when that journey attains
    its end.
    In every step, breath,
    and moment of faith
    that carries us out
    of the cave,
    there is a hazy beauty
    waiting to unfold.
    We aren’t entirely there;
    we are just cyclists
    in a state of infinite becoming.
    And in becoming,
    we are already whole.

  • The Thought Architect

    The Thought Architect

    The thought unrolls, a tender leaf,
    uncurling in the dim light of what is.
    But—what is?

    A construction, they tell us.
    Spun from threads of notice,
    dyed with hues of credence.

    This space, these walls,
    hard to the hand,
    yet viewed, interpreted, known
    only through the prism within.

    A shift there, a subtle re-tilting,
    and the light falls differently.
    Shadows stretch or shrink.
    The texture of the wall
    softens,
    or sharpens into new distinctness.

    If the mind,
    this silent architect,
    can raise these thresholds,
    can it not also bring them down?

    To redraw the blueprint,
    erase the lines etched deep
    by habit, by fear, by expectation.

    To choose a new palette,
    brush strokes of possibility
    upon the canvas of the day.

    The weight you carry,
    that unseen burden,
    may lighten or lift
    with one re-imagined breath.

    The world waits,
    formless and fluid,
    for the shaping of your eye.
    Change the mind, they say
    and see the world re-arrange.

  • Who’s Watching

    Who’s Watching

    Though status, faith,
    or class may seem
    to set us far apart,
    the common thread of error
    marks us,
    star by star.
    Each falters in a fashion
    uniquely their own.
    And this shared imperfection?
    It’s a truth
    we’ve always known.

    It is natural.
    No one’s past
    is a single color.
    No one’s present
    is one-dimensional.
    And no one’s future
    comes without a choice.

    Meaning is learned.
    Reality—chosen.
    A path is formed
    by the vibration
    of consciousness,
    its frequency.

    The story unfolds
    as one of witness—
    probabilities realized.

    The observer
    is observed.
    The observed
    is the observer.

  • Rooted Riddle

    Rooted Riddle

    A shadow,
    my only consistent friend,
    becomes shorter with the rising sun,
    a lie, this shrinkage,
    as it also extends,
    an outstretched darkness
    that drains the dew-frosted leaves.

    Sun-lit, I stretch,
    a still green reaching,
    for the very light
    that sears my edges brown.

    A dryness quenched by the storm
    that comes to tear me from the soil.

    This rooted life,
    a paradox of immobility and wild growth,
    of receiving what consumes my being,
    carbon’s gentle touch,
    and returning the very breath
    that enables the robin to sing.

    They say I am plain,
    a fixed point in a turning world.
    But in my bark and flower,
    quiet battles are fought,
    a contradiction to living,
    a paradox to being.

    Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.

  • Eternal Now

    Eternal Now

    My soul,
    my consciousness,
    lives eternally.

    Yet I exist
    neither in the past
    nor in the future.

    On the infinite line,
    I, timeless witness,
    to this moment
    conceived, defined.

    A word—spoken.
    Eyes—opened.
    A world—created.
    Reality—stamped.

    Filed under: 🜃 Infinite – exploring the unseen forces behind creation, truth, and existence.

  • Illusions of Perception, Power of Clarity

    Illusions of Perception, Power of Clarity

    Reality isn’t the way you perceive the world.
    It isn’t your thoughts about life,
    Nor is it the things around you.

    These are the illusions,
    The grand narratives we tell ourselves,
    To make sense of the unknown.

    Reality is perceiving what is
    Unfiltered,
    Untouched by bias or expectation.

    Clarity is both wisdom and power.
    To see clearly is to witness the essence of all things,
    Stripped down to their purest forms.
    In that vision lies freedom.

    Perception is a veil we draw over truth,
    Shaped by fears, desires, and beliefs.
    It convinces us to see scarcity where there is abundance,
    Isolation where there is connection,
    And loss where there is infinite potential.

    To pierce this veil is to reclaim the fullness of reality.

    When we give,
    We often feel vulnerable,
    As though something has been taken from us.

    This sense of loss,
    This echo of emptiness,
    Is a distortion—
    A negative energy born from a misunderstanding of abundance.
    It resonates at a lower frequency,
    Diminishing our vitality.

    But in truth, giving creates connection.
    It opens channels unseen,
    Forming bonds that ignite the spark of light.

    The friction of this connection doesn’t take—
    It illuminates.
    It lights the mind,
    Awakening it to receive wisdom beyond comprehension.

    The vulnerability we feel in giving is not loss,
    But the courage to merge,
    To blend,
    To expand beyond the self.

    In that merging lies abundance—
    A space where creation unfolds,
    Limitless and radiant.

    What would the world look like,
    If we embraced giving not as sacrifice,
    But as the ultimate act of creation?

    Could we learn to see vulnerability not as weakness,
    But as the doorway to connection and growth?

    Reality is waiting—
    Not in how we think,
    Perceive,
    Or judge,
    But in how we allow ourselves to be and to give.

    Step into it,
    And let the spark illuminate your path.

    Filed under: 🜃 Infinite – exploring the unseen forces behind creation, truth, and existence.

  • Unspoken Depths

    Unspoken Depths

    Listen to
    The whisper of thoughts
    Before they become words.

    See
    Time’s invisible sleigh of hands
    Sculpting moments from eternity.

    Smell
    The fragrance of dreams
    Wafting from the subconscious.

    Taste
    The flavor of emotions
    Simmering in the heart’s cauldron.

    Feel
    The weight of unwritten roles
    Hovering in potential.

    Experience
    Worlds beyond worlds,
    Realities folded within realities.
    Destiny hidden in a single cell.

    Perceive
    Stretching the mind’s canvas
    Beyond the frame of possibility.

    Plant
    The seed,
    The sparks of revelation,
    In the fertile soil of wonder.

    Embrace
    The paradox of being,
    Both particle and wave,
    Observer and observed.

    Navigate
    The labyrinth of the self,
    A mirror reflecting the cosmos.

    Resonate
    With the frequency of creation,
    Vibrating in harmony
    A note in the cosmic chord.

    Transcend
    The boundaries of perception,
    To touch the face of mystery.

    In these unspoken depths,
    We find the silent spaces between heartbeats,
    Where eternity whispers its secrets.

    Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.

  • Beyond The Untold

    Beyond The Untold

    Imagine hearing,
    What the speaker
    Could not hear.

    Imagine seeing,
    What the watchmaker
    Could not see.

    Imagine smelling,
    What the perfumer
    Could not sense.

    Imagine tasting,
    What the cook
    Could not savor.

    Imagine feeling,
    What the actor’s senses
    Could not perceive.

    Imagine experiencing,
    What the storyteller
    Never lived.

    Imagine conceiving,
    What the mother
    Never foresaw.

    Imagine creating
    All of that,
    And none of it your own,
    Borrowing the universe
    To craft a single star.

    In the space between
    What is, what’s hidden, and what could be,

    Let your imagination
    Imagine for you.

    Just imagine.

    Filed under: 🜃 Infinite – exploring the unseen forces behind creation, truth, and existence.