I Am more ancient than the Milky Way. I Am brighter than death. How vast Am I? Uuuuuge! No matter how long you babble florid titular prefixes such as 'Most Glorious Grandfather' and 'Super Radiant Darkness,' You cannot reach the end of my name.
The earth is no bigger than a pea in the empty bucket of a single brain cell between my ears. This very breath fills my chest with stars whose light took 7 million years to get here. When I exhale, heavens and hells are indiscriminately created in a dance of photons flooding the void between my lips.
I Am sky blue emptiness. You can't contain me - I contain you. Ocean I Am, and you are just a wave of me. When I crush a blackberry on my tongue and sigh, the names of all your ancestors resonate in my "Mmmmmm." Where will you find me? Out here in the luminous meadow of mahatmic drunks, with Rumi and Walt Whitman.
Friend, if you try to resist my love, you'll drown. I immolate you like a cinder with my glance, which you call "noonday sun." Not even Shiva has eyes like mine. If I ever slept, what would happen to the universe?
You may have a PHD and think you are smart, but your tiny intellect can't calculate my dimensions. The curve of your soul won't touch the asymptote of my little finger bone. Avatars and Buddhas whirl through the unfathomable night of my astonishment, searching for a veil of ego where they can hang their cocoons. They grasp for some limitation of my presence, where they might fix a silken thread, and begin to weave their sticky webs for soul-catching. But I'm too boundless!
My nearest membrane is beyond any oasis of clustered galaxies where archangels might sleep over in their pilgrimage toward the sound of my Word. My voice doesn't slow down in spaces where the ever-expanding cosmos has not yet been born. Creation can't catch up to my Presence. Out there somewhere in my silence, a voice is crying, 'I Am Who Am!' But no prophet's tongue is long enough to reach those terrible sounds of aloneness.
I suggest you give up naming me, cease all efforts to know me, and just repose in your own heartbeat. Drown there where you already are, and you might discover my truth. I am deeper in you, and you are deeper in me, than the Creator. We are too vast for any Self. There is only one hope for grasping who we are: dissolve into the first dandelion you see.