Inner World

Where No Key Fits

The quiet hum of solitude,
an enormity where my unsaid thoughts
find no echo.
Freedom here, independent
from the knowing glance.

There is also a peculiar refuge in
being gently misinterpreted,
a shield from the sharper outline
of flawless understanding.

I realize that, upon seeing me,
upon mapping those winding roads
of my heart,
do they indeed not hold a key?
Do they not lay claim to those wild,
unbroken spaces
that I keep even from myself?

To be known is a gilded cage,
Where bars of love,
glinting bright,
still keep an aching heart.

So I walk at these edges,
hugging the immense loneliness
and the soft oblivion
of not being quite seen.
My soul breathes here,
not bothered,
free to live.
The Pyramid’s Knowing

Do you know the pyramid’s deep significance?

It is this:
a blending of polarities.

A foundation laid,
a single line connecting
the vessel,
the earth below.

Then, a rising,
two pathways reaching,
stretching for the vastness,
the distant stars,
only to meet,
to fuse as one.

The heavens above,
a spark’s flash.

You inquire about fate
and freely chosen options.

“Not one,
nor the other,
but two visions encountered,
collided imaginations,
seen and watched,
gave birth
to the world you live in,”
the pyramid informs us.

These are the forms
of possibility—
the dream worlds
and the images they contain.

The deepest conviction
is that it never exists
outside of us
but rather thrives
in the way we create
the ties that bind us.

Filed under: 🜃 Infinite – exploring the unseen forces behind creation, truth, and existence.
The Stranger’s Truth

It is hard being misunderstood,
Like a book written in a forgotten tongue.
Misunderstanding denies
The existence of identity,
Self and truth,
A erasure of the soul’s fingerprint.

Feeling misunderstood,
Is a feeling of non-acceptance
Of who we are,
A rejection of our inner landscape,
Mountains of experience flattened
By the bulldozer of presumption.

Accept or pass,
Don’t deny.

My misunderstandings are
Simple to understand,
Like clear water mistaken for air.

I am always a stranger,
A traveler in a land of familiar faces.
And I always become
A stranger,
Even to those closest
To me.

People sense the breath
Of depth,
An ocean beneath a still surface,
And assume intentions,
Sometimes they assume,
Bad intentions.

But the truth is
What they sense
Is an unfiltered directness,
A deeper meaning,
Waiting to be uncovered,
Like buried treasure beneath
The sands of superficiality.

There is no veil,
There is essence.

In this world of masks and mirrors,
I stand naked in my truth,
Unbreakable, a paradox.

Misunderstood, yes,
But in the quiet of self-knowledge,
I find the acceptance
The world often fails to give.

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

The mind doesn’t stop,
a ceaseless sea of thought.
Awareness is a current,
steady and deep,
flowing beneath the waves.

In light,
its depths are revealed,
crystalline and clear,
while in darkness,
it hides secrets
it keeps from sight,
a vast ocean unexplored.

An attentive eye,
a lighthouse on the shore,
though often unaware
of its own inner presence,
still senses its gentle touch,
like the caress of sea foam.

In shadows or sunshine,
it’s a constant companion,
an undercurrent strong,
and a soulful heart
beating with the rhythm
of the eternal tide.

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

Some ignore it all,
Some count wounds,
And some count lessons.

Some seek beauty in the mundane,
Some find solace in solitude,
And some revel in the chaos.

Some dance with joy in the rain,
Some embrace the stillness of night,
And some chase the dawn’s first light.

Some build bridges from broken pieces,
Some heal others with their own scars,
And some shine as beacons through the dark.

Some act with kindness,
Some whisper wisdom,
And some create words.

Some plant seeds in barren soil,
Some nurture dreams against all odds,
And some inspire hope in weary hearts.

Some find strength in vulnerability,
Some forge unity from diversity,
And some spark change with a single act.

Some paint stories on blank canvases,
Some compose melodies from silence,
And some sculpt beauty from rough stone.

Some embrace the unknown with courage,
Some question to seek deeper truths,
And some re-imagine the world anew.

Each path is unique, yet none supreme,
All threads in life’s lotus flower,
A symphony of human experience.

Some lead, some follow, some walk alone,
Yet all move onward in their time,
Each step is valid, each journey whole.

In laughter, tears, or silent thought,
We navigate our inner worlds,
No way lesser, no way greater.

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

In my tent,
I create and I invent.

And in my tent
I peel,
The images of my senses,
In an attempt,
To reach the grounds,
At which my conscience can’t extend to prevent my memory,
From joining the potential of two extremes.

To look at the judge’s vacant seat
Makes being at two opposites at once, real,
Zero indeed -time leaves-
So as I approach this final shade.

And when everything now
Feels colorless, tasteless, odorless, mute,
And all of that
A legend alarms the shadow of night,
So just to strike my tent with light.

Imagine a subconscious in too deep,
As a divine dream rises to capture the universe and its deities.

A voice from far and near sounds as if it is coming from outside,
And simultaneously from within me says:
“Enter thy dream.”

I enter.

I dream.

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

Inner World

Where No Key Fits

The Pyramid’s Knowing

The Stranger’s Truth

Awareness Unseen

Some and Some

Enter Thy Dream