Mounted mirror image

  
Sooner or later, every mirror image that has stepped out of itself turns back in on itself. Its forgivable, wise wrinkles from the moments of marcona times just as they blossom and become one with the maturity hidden in the depths. Eras and human relationships are reassessed. It does no harm to keep the malfunctions of the spiritual household in order with due regularity. Memories fall like dry leaves into the depths: they fall under, fade away in a windless, space-scented haze. Even so, memory becomes more and more fragmented, more and more leaky.

The present always hides its past, while the messages always reach their destination. - The silently stretched hieroglyphic speech of hands is self-identical with the tenderness of touch. The telepathic melody of glances echoes through the cliffs of the soul...

The smallest poles of budding bodies are infiltrated by a tinkling bliss that both encourages and tingles. The Soul, even in its agitated state, can feel safe when the cosmic magic of the All is revealed in its naked nakedness. The contours of the flesh are revealed as the hidden stirrings of emotion become intelligible; like two embryos, the happy couple lie side by side, with only each other to look at. The molecular tracing of blood circles still beats rhythmically in the chambers of their hearts. As if they were unconsciously drowning in protective amniotic waters - the volatile sea of flame of Being is a gift to each other.

The soul should reach a more balanced, more solid state of consciousness, when Beginning and End no longer matter, for the Being floats and incarnates!