niedziela, 4 marca 2012

Roz-łąka - Sepa-ration


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Mean while... If we want to be aware and live consciously, we must get more control of our life. On daily basis. Just like Time tried in Pro-vocation. And until we are powerful enough to see through and subdue all these countless external forces applying to the GIVEN moment (or a mean while), until we can bend the contextual conditioning to our will...

Half hour back, I knocked off a teaspoon from the kitchen table... Not a big deal... Unless the teaspoon had been INSERTED in some cottage cheese... And it had... As it turned out... So, in the GIVEN moment, the kitchen floor looked like Milky Way... Not the bar... The galaxy... And I had been scrubbing it like hell only the previous day... Now, if I weren't a divine being, I would have lost my temper, blaming human clumsiness, coincidence and/or God... Or I would have felt sorry for having no control of even my most direct surroundings... But I am a divine being, aware, and living consciously. So what did I do? I just cleaned the place. A gain.

Bottom line: Until we let our divinity take full control of our reality, more important then what happens to us is how we respond to it. In the GIVEN moment. :o)

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To drop in on someone
For a cup of coffee
And a quick chat
When at noon you open your eyes
And from under the duvet
You praise the day
For how short it's gonna be

Then you strum and plonk
While on the meadows
The bumblebee gets plastered with the cricket
And they both end up at the spider's
To wait through time
Such time

How to wait through time
How to wait through time
How to wait through time
Such time

Absent-mindedness
Forgetfulness
Too loud and empty laughter
Hyper-talkativeness
Or not a word for hours
And the questions
What's wrong with you
Such time

You escape into the crowd
For between the many people
It's easier to hide your fear
And the day will pass somehow
And at night
You'll probably sleep
For some time

Long last unwanted moments
Time of waiting for time to go by
That's where the mind's ferments come from
It takes long for the wine to mature
Long time

Far far and away from here and now
In the sea of lush meadows
Some two amongst the thigh-high grass
Want to stop the flying time
To close in their palms the blues and greens and pinks
Of the skies and woods and hills

Short last the magic moments
Time flies when this is no time for that
That's where the mind's ferments come from
It takes short for the head to clear
Short time

How to stop time
How to stop time
How to stop time
Such time
Such time

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