Ever gone beyond the name and the ages nailed to you,
who had to cry for breath as a naked butt in the burst of a slap?
The beating heart of caveman’s knowledge?

Truth can not be suppressed.
It has an infancy but no demise.
It’s an arrowhead whetted in flight.
It is a swirling gossip.
I expect it’s coming out of you, too
and even the dead ones,
like an arresting phantom vesper.

I test therefore can attest;

There is no god of this and that, the other, yours or mine
in antiquity; of music in wine,
weaponry, the might,
magic fertile..

There is no God; Third Person Ensconced in the Sky
but the Creator and the Sustainer of the Universe;

The Absolute
that is neither begotten, nor begetting.

All might;
this consciousness
in each divine segment,
like us
when we could be just;

Stricken with the world, yet I am free
and this is my expression
singular and constant.


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