Uradiance

    To create an effect, every cause passes through the realm of the miraculous, which is the realm of the un-created. The miraculous is the discontinuity of the void, the empty space between any two impulses of energy. A galaxy or a photon, a breath or a seed, one who is dying or one who is being born, must perish and sprout again, perish and sprout again, from this space of discontinuity and re-creation. Your inhalation arises from this space. Spring arises from this space. Your heart beat arises from this space.  Quantum discontinuity evaporates the gossamer threads of necessity that bind action to reaction, cause to effect, melting the karmic mirage into a waveless transparency. This is the space of the shaman who performs miracles of healing or shape-shifting. The shaman breaks the chain of causation, entering the void between this moment and the next. The dew of causation dissolves, revealing the non-linear reality of clustered radiance, the v...

We all had tears of laughter in our eyes, shouting, "Don't speak the Word, don't create heaven or earth. Let's just stay crushed together in this unfermented juice!" It was no use. The Old Man cried, "Let there be light!" We all began fermenting. Everything's been tumbling downhill ever since, from  perfect order toward chaos.  Now we're a tangle of vines, both luscious and poisonous, beyond the broken fence. Our mouths are full of honeysuckle. Our ears are clover petals. I am lost in a bio-galactic meadow among pulsars of dew, gazing at a string of moons through a dragonfly's wing. We are dreams of light in each others optic nerves. Your otherness is as questionable as mine. Am I you or me? This field must be out beyond ideas of right or wrong. Here, Rumi wanders barefoot, half-tipsy with the wine of ambiguity. Come friend, drink from the bowl of my heart until it is hollow. Then drink even more. Let's both become the bot...

To taste the union of Lover and Beloved in every perception, to see the world as Beauty. Far from being an esoteric distraction, this is the solution to our problems. Whatever the political problem, it is never solved on the level where the problem arose, but at a completely new level of experience. Where there is beauty and delight, there can be no cruelty or exploitation. Every subject-object relationship dissolves into a subject-subject relationship. Then we "love our neighbor as our Self," as Christ said. Or in the words of Dostoevsky, "The world will be saved by Beauty." Yes, there is nothing more practical than Beauty.

What flows was once frozen, what freezes once was flow. Life and death are woven like raindrops in snow. The bone fire of old rams, the teat stream of the ewe, the glittering holograms of midnight stars in dew; a glance of full moon on a dark icy pond, the bright crystal rune of reflection, a wand of dragonwort touching its seed that sleeps under sod in hollows that bleed to bear a crocus god; white witchery of Imbolc that cloaks the frozen field, a shimmer-gift of fairy folk to salve earth's wound, unhealed; the brittle Winter sun my heart to pierce and thaw, and make my sap to run from furrows raw... O mover of the looms of time, dear Mother wise, sow roses in these tombs of light, my sleeping eyes. Image: Brigid's Blessing by Sue Ellen Parkinson