The Divinity of Absence


Is in the absence of all things
Even Divinity
And at this our minds rebel
For it is in our lives of doing and thinking that we stray
In the perceiving that we are enchanted
In the judging that we misunderstand
It is in our definitions and delineations
In our errant derivations
That Divinity slips away
The closer we come to grasping it.
It is in the dialogues of the mind
That we are distracted and tempted away
From the stillness that is the emanation of all things
From which all things emanate
Where Divinity at play
Is Divinity at rest 
Where there is nothing to be done
More than the Sacred Work of Being
And not being.
When you hear the words
“Be still and know that I am God”
Be still
It is there that we find the opening
In the absence and presence of all things
Both, in accord with Divinity
Leading us away from, yet into and through
Our current point
Spiraling around, intertwined in the infinite N-Sphere
Simultaneously approaching and receding
Originating, departing and returning
The circumscribed void within and without
All in the one breath
Of the Divine
Breathing in and breathing out
In the stasis of the breathless eternal moment
You ask me to explain
So I give you my words
All the while knowing
They are a stepping away from the truth
For in the instant that I speak
I reduce the infinitely varied continuum
To a discrete mythology that misleads us
We are misled by our own minds
You say “Show me God”
So I hand you a stone
And I wonder if you see Divinity there
In the same ways I do
And we both wonder what the other sees
And ache with the unknowableness of such things
For in each of us is that part
Known only to ourselves and the Divine
Known only to the unity and singularity of all
Our presence and absence
It is there that I long to find you
Where we are borne in the water between the worlds
In our journey through being each other
Where we shed the chrysalides of ourselves
These divinely inscrutable things
Known only in Divinity

But as soon as we try to speak of it
We offer up
A bucket full of starlight
Such an absurdly impossible thing
This illuminated emptiness
Such a beautiful thing
This recursive emanation

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