Nothing stands before me. Potential. Without obstacle. The possibility of experience.

I am fluid. Unsurpassed, meant to last.

There is no wave that backs against my frame. No hollowness of, “Will I make it to another shore?” There is no question. Not one more.

I am the gift of liquid surreptitiousness flowing through these veins that have no matter. There is no cholesterol within us all. Only a delusion of inhibition locked by time and space and atoms displaced by the sound of Great Grace.

Do you want me here? Yes. The answer is always Yes. Affirmation. There is no No, except the one of nothingness. The one that is the utmost road that glows from simplicity of the complex me. I am not repressed. Blessed. Dressed. Caressed. I am not good or bad, evil or god-like. I am the simple truth of the cosmic riddle that comes through me like Kokopelli’s flute, its sound of fertility cast out to become me.

There are no obstacles that block my way. This wave is paved by ocean shores that roar, the sound of Aum, as it creates this state from The Silent Home. There is no hindrance but the delusion of this experience. There is no one washed ashore, dead or drowned forevermore. Only life, sustained from its place, where nothing is. Liquid Gold.

There are no eyes that lie, no strife ~ no one who lies beside me with hidden knife. There is only glass, a see-through veil, to choose the hell or heaven state, to find the pearly gate where oysters lay their formed palettes of purity amongst the sea, in waters great and fluid.