There is a full day before you. It is a complete 24 hours. That
has been agreed upon. The world attempts to be allied with nature and
follow the sun. Often the world gets caught up in cement and dollars.
What do cement and dollars have to do with nature? And yet the world
tries.

The world tries to understand the sun and the stars. It
contemplates them. The astronomers seek to know the love of the galaxies
as much as a poet does. There is a seeking to get inside and get closer
to the magnificence of the stars. There is the physical level, and
there is the level that far outreaches the physical. Surely there is
more to the lovelies of nature than the matter they are made of. Surely
there is more to poetry than the words poems are made of. There is
always something more, and yet the something more cannot always be
pinned down, and, yet, it can be felt, and it can be enjoyed.

The
physical offers its joys, yet if life were only physical and nothing
more than physical, how much joy would there be? Physical matter is not
infinite. It has an end. As much as you want to investigate the
physical, the physical has its limits. That the physical has limits
means that there is an end to it. It means that the physical is finite.
As much as you desire to solve a puzzle, once you have solved it, there
is an emptiness, a let-down, and the joy is reduced.

Fortunately,
there is Infinity, the something more that you desire to grasp. The
thing is that Infinity, by its very nature, is not graspable. And that
is its very joy. It is unending. There is always more to it. Words fall
short. One discovery leads to another. There is no conclusion. Infinity
does not conclude. Your joy in the infinite nature of life is a niggling
joy. It teases. That which you love about Infinity also eludes you.

That’s
okay. Infinity does not have to know itself. Infinity is as Infinity
does. The merry-go-ride of Infinity keeps on going. There is no getting
off. And you are always on the merry-go-round ride. There is neither
getting on nor getting off. That’s Infinity for you. That is its joy,
and that is what makes it ephemeral. You crave Infinity, and yet you
want to divide it into parts. You want to dissect that which is
incapable of being dissected. That is its sweetness, and that is its
torment.

Fortunately, you do not have to choose, for you are in
the grasp of Infinity. Infinity never drops you off anywhere. You are
Infinity trying to grasp its own nature which is whole and yet is
indiscernible.

From nothingness everything comes. From emptiness
everything comes. And yet, from the nothingness and emptiness and
silence of Infinity, concrete arises. The Source of All is not seen. The
Source of All is indelible, and yet not seen. It cannot be erased, nor
can it be seen in order to be erased.

You swim in the deep waters
at the same time as you seemingly drift on top of a winding river. You
are on target. You have reached your destination even though you don’t
really know what your destination is. At the same time, how can you
reach Infinity when you are already established in Infinity?

What
is it that you have to know and understand about the waters of life
when you are the song of life itself? You sing in your depths, and you
sing in your heights. All the while you swim in the ocean of yourself,
infinite Being that you are.

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