Great Mother... Endlessly Birthing... Is the Universe a Place? Is it a Time? Is it a Mystery? Is it Alive? Is it Great Mother? Is it a Living Poem stretching out through the pages of place, time, mystery, aliveness, Mothering, and poem-ing? Is it Consciousness looking into the Mirror of Being in search of an answer to the One Question: Who am I?
Who am I? This is the question (quest) of poetry, of mysticism, of culture, of politics, of economics, and of every religion. "Who am I?" is the seeking inherent in the Mystic Name of the One Consciousness "I Am..." Not a complete statement of fact, of knowing, of self-identification... Religions are built upon the sand of "I Am"... never knowing that the altars built to That are beside the point... The point is waiting for the revelation of our consciousness to reveal that One Essential Answer...
So to the point: what is your poem? What song do you sing into the wind? What clothing of thought are you willing to abandon to discover the Truth that waits undercover? What are the economics and politics that you take into your bedroom at night? How do your feet touch the Earth -- do your feet ever touch the ground without the protection of your shoes? How far do your hands and arms reach around the trees of your life? How do you hold and kiss the breasts or testicles of your life? Have you ever wondered how G-d makes love?
The Universe is a poem: a living breathing six-pack of possibilities... Birthing... waiting... birthing... exploring... birthing... Waiting for our poem: for our contribution to the "I Am..." question: what are you saying through your life, through your music, through your prayers, and through your voting? Ah yes, it is the sum total of everything that we think, say, and do that is our Proposed Revelation to the One who is seeking -- through us -- to Know Itself... So, what say you?