Beloved, at one time or another, life certainly seems madcap. How can anyone take life in the outer world so seriously any day of the week or year? The world seems like a TV series where laughs abound if only you could laugh and smile. As you watch the series, your life seems to be off in a distant cabbage patch obvious or oblivious before you, yet who can really say?
Who begins to know when you are onstage or offstage or anywhere at all? You would reside in the song of the nightingale outside your window if you could. Maybe you do, for all you know. Do nightingales really exist, or are they kept for princesses in ancient lands? What you do know is that what is dubbed life is afoot. This so-called life is always on the move. You are captured on Earth, for whatever reason you may not quite guess. Perhaps you are captured here so you will make guesses about whether you actually landed here and there or not or when you leave or not, or are you just caught in the craw of the world?
Whether dreams come true or not, dreams are here to stay. Sometimes dreams are carried over from lifetime to lifetime, so it seems, and perhaps the range of meaning is simply to cover existence, not to be tempered with or made either light of or too much of. Every day of life is like a new book you take out from the library to read. You may well check your books out of a special world library where you receive special admittance and fast service.
Life seems to get serious. You are the last to know or not to know until someone taps you on the shoulder – as amazing as this may be.
You peer at the Moon and travel to it, and you also return before visiting hours are over.
You suppose that wherever you visit is something of yourself in one mode or another. You figure you need a light bulb in your head turned on or off so that you can see or not see depending.
Suddenly, the world bears new representative angels. You have been looking for something, yet, what you have been looking for, you are absent-minded about – no matter how deeply you have been seeking. This is fine with you, too. You have no purse to reach into at this time.
You would like Me to have a prince and a carriage waiting for you before the grass grows greener. You seem to be seeking a journey close in tow. You wouldn’t mind something great happening with a simple wave of your hand. You try to introduce yourself to your Self, yet it’s more likely that you are casually sitting on a city bus.
You wonder if you are starting a journey. You don’t really know when this adventure starts or ends nor do know where you are really going and whether where you land will ring true to your heart. You would like it to be true to your heart, yet how do you really know there will be something somewhere deeper for your heart to drink in on another day or anywhere else? Does anyone really know what awaits after the engine revs?
It would be nice if hearts meet wide open, and all hearts be straightforward the same way birds sing and chirp in the morning when windows are open and the bird songs make your heart a receiver tuned into every other heart anywhere in this world or in any other world here or abouts or out of sight and as yet undiscovered. Hearts are meant to be serene and to send and receive love abounding. What else matters so much?