Infinity

And in that moment, I swear we were infinite.
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Past these horizons
Where the rays of infinity
Cradle the wilted ripples of time;
Ripples that have traversed lifetimes,
Is nocturnal magic –
The kind that never sleeps
And lends old, comforting dreams to sleepless minds.

Artists are we, and reality our
Foe from ages-old but
Realisation is what fuels our
Pursuits – imaginary or not.

Bathed in the gentle glow of starlight,
Infinite rays – they touch souls far and wide,
Feeding lost whispers hope
And fuelling faith’s dying embers.
In circles do these thoughts go
Wandering for eternity
And living for tomorrows.

Perplexing sights heralding doubt,
Blurring the line between life and death
Limiting what must be a series
Of infinite moments.
Perhaps, life and death –
Two sides of infinity, they may be
For what is lost is found
When the sun rises
On the other side.

If the doors of perception were cleansed, everything would appear to man as it is – infinite.
― William Blake

Thoughtfully yours,
D

16 thoughts on “Infinity

  1. horizons of inner life
    the reality of the soul
    through the hubris of reason
    remain closed to the inner eye

    we are time
    in our short time
    in the infinity of the soul

    that of the thought world during lifetimes
    whether we want it or not
    with the memories of ours
    deeds and misdeeds traversed

    the soul the spirit
    who is in us
    in body unit
    of every human being
    in the kind that never sleeps
    the author does not recognize this
    of your own life to be

    the dream
    the mouthpiece of the soul
    awakens in every mind
    the training for insight
    in the drama of the soul
    to be a tired extra

    an artist who does not recognize the reality of the soul
    remains his own enemy
    the soul drives every human being to his knowledge and in his consciousness

    who takes a bath
    in imaginary worlds
    the suns
    in the cosmos
    in the universe
    that is the belief
    addicted to being godlike

    the prophet wants with his dark thinking
    with his pure chaste reason
    we from greed
    obsessed with conquering the world
    his lost whisper and with the mother’s milk of his words us with it
    to teach the better

    there are no infinite moments
    a moment arises in us
    he’s just gone from our minds

    the world has always been what it was and it is
    only we haven’t figured it out yet
    we stand with both feet in our own shadow and we don’t know it

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