Infinite Infant

Sat in the stormy dark morning. Nothing known, no covering of soul, nor flesh, just as I came to this world. Yet different in times weary marks left.

Feeling, all that life has been, could have been. All the dreams and hopes.
All there is now, is now. The rain on the window. I think a lot about you sitting here.

The future used to be mine in its essence to see, I could sense it somehow. No longer so.

There is just, time.

Moving. Standing still. The same sun, the same moon, nothing changes. Over years and lifetime’s, all remains;

Infinitely unknown.


Pleiades, Play – 64446

Serendipity, stands
as silence sees
a silent vow
stands still swallowed
In Seers shaming song

Destinies dice, deflect
as Dunkirk drowns
a devoid depth;
Dignity is Death,
On Draco’s diamond desk

Parse Pleiades, passing
as Pontius prays
a passion play
prides penance pay
In Pleione’s parched peace.


The Heartbeat Of The Universe

When we are a children we are taught that the universe is our home, we are part of this amazing place along with everything in it – we belong here. Our cognitive ability gives indication to ever-increasing space around us as physical realms expand beyond our caregivers arms. Our world grows us into these places we are introduced to; the grass, the sky, our local convenience store, our community, school, and on we go. Some stretch us very far afield to different continents, and even if we don’t go anywhere, we will learn of these other places, including the different planets and galaxies.

We move, we progress, we are displaced at times, yet in that we appear to grow to become more one with this universe we find ourselves placed in, asking the question humans have asked since they first discovered thought: Where did we come from?

At this point, our minds will take us back to our beginnings, our places of birth, or rather our first recollections of life. Which for most of us, whether good or bad, is home; The place we expanded from.

We leave home, because we have to. It wasn’t always so, but even in eras past we ‘left’ behind, although carrying within us, our home. We fling ourselves out into the universe to discover something, anything, everything. We long to find home, the centre and beginning of our world. We may travel far and wide in search of it, some as far as the moon, to connect with the sense of feeling at home, in our place, as we always knew – in this universe.

We participate in this event of life to discover this thing – our home – our universe, we may find we reach the end of how far we can stretch our minds and hearts out to embrace and absorb it all. We may never reach that place.

Though I think, if we allow ourselves to know that we never will, in our own lifetime have the capacity to fully be at home in the universe as that boundary of our security and comfort of the womb that carried us, we may begin to make a journey in the other direction.

Instead of outward away from everything we are and know within us,  away from where we are to ourselves centre of that universe where everything awaits for us to discover it, we may find we go back to the beginning, back down into our smallest self.

Contrasting to us being the centre of the universe and it getting nearer to us as we grow and move out away from home, in search of our true belonging within it, our truest home, we may find the opposite of what we imagined and were told.

Life is not a journey away from nor toward anything it is exactly as we hoped – it is a journey home. It starts as a heartbeat and when we go back to where home began, we find it still is, just that – a heart beat. We move behind the beating through it to the other side of everything that made it so – we turn inside out and we find it.

We are not in the universe, nor does it revolve around us. The universe is in us, right at our centre and we revolve around it.

Sparks that create a heartbeat.