The secrets of the universe.

j o e w i s e

Many people (at last count 4) have remarked on posts and the links I share and (hopefully) have gone off and done a little radical dreaming of their own.  Others have asked point-of-fact what does this mean?  The very people I was trying to reach most have laughed or puzzled and asked those closest to me if they understand.  I'll let you in on a little open secret.  Sometimes I don't get the math either, and have to ask my children.  (This is actually a ploy to make them think I'm still interesting beyond senility.)  Here's the truth bricked up inside the conch's fibonacci shell.  I only want to get to the meaning in the still heart of the garden.  Nothing has to be feared , really and everyone is dancing as fast as their hearts allow.  Technology indistinguishable from magic.  Everything so different we lose our footing in convulsions of joy.

Word is deed and labor is law, we're made, all of us and everything from the same dust.  We don't strain and suffer our physical limits herein while alternate copies of ourselves live the wishful lives we imagine we wanted, in a for-better-or-worse quantum wave state.  The universe is infinitely larger than our calculation yet it fits in a single thought inside an air bubble existence that itself is replicated over and over without end, in the minds of your children's children's children.  We should stop trying to explain it to ourselves in hope of a better seat on the cosmic bus and just try to enjoy the ride.  No, we're not there yet.  I struggled and yanked my chains and yours trying to get off these rocks but never heard them speaking to me till now.  Majesty and firmament are one, and plants are smarter than pants.

All this grogged in my head when I was young and dizzied me slow.  Throughout I've had some amazing adventures and even more unbelievable friends but often reached for things that weren't what they appeared to be.  Particles flock like birds and doctrine and dogma bleach like bones in the apochryphal glare, this oracle Internet.  Imaginary crops, construed lives, whirlwind changes abound.  This is what we're made of, or what our ghosts remember.  Hacks, prophets, pagans, poets, reaching for the very stuff from which we're forged, again and again.  This universe is and is not a copy of the previous but an unrepentant analog, down to the wiring and the code.  Spinning in infinity.  It may sound romantic or terrifying but it just is, as it just was, and shall always be.  And we belong to each other like the dew on the roses.

What you think you believe is what you hear whispered in your imagination, the spirits of those who like you built their edifices and temples to chance or money, the coin of the realm of the day become wisps of smoke curling in air.  And there we are not anymore, just seeds on that exhaled wind that forever blows us farther from ourselves, carried away.  All minds requested yet few awaken soon enough to pounce with purpose on true desire.  Scientists seek more questions to fit their feeble answers, artists whack away at atoms pressed in marble.  A slab of death is as cold as space and empty.  This life is my turn and yours to speak, to wander, to stagger and straighten, to choose.  There really are no differences and your countenance is only what you make of it, trying to stay alive.

I know I chased phantoms that ate the breadcrumbs I left behind.  Trailing that quirky melody all through those gilded paths and now I have to speak.  As best I can in hopes of honoring life before achieving demise, of triumphing love over fear, and knowing my friends are happy, and my family is safe.  We're on the threshold of a universality greater than humanity and longer lasting.  This is the moment we carve our names in stone and watch our tears break the reflections in the water.  Remember me and think of all of us together at last.  Only close your eyes when the time has come to lift the veil and break the trance, when the light has gone out of you and back into the stars from whence we came.  Leave this world not as you found it but as we dreamed it, together. Empty so you can fill me up and if I'm lucky I can take your magic with me when I go.

 

P.S.

Get somewhere far away from the lights of the city as deep into the heart of darkness as you can stand and stop moving.  Lay down on the grass or the ground with your eyes closed and only breathe when the wind tells you to.  Then slowly open your eyes and look up.  We're back where we started.  The beginning is the end but the end is just the beginning, again.  I am yours, you are mine, you are what you are.