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It may seem a very strange notion to be devoted to an invisible source and the only footprints of its existence is indelibly imprinted in my heart.
The heart you say, yes, but not the physical heart but the heart that is encapsulated in the feeling of love and devotion, a kind of mind consciousness.
From Psalm 42-1 -- As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so my soul panteth after thee, oh God.
I have read many holy bibles of most religions and occasionally I come across a phrase or quotation which aptly and succinctly is the epitome of what I wish to express and I have not the inspiration to do so.
There is indeed a thirst, a love affair to experience this strange God, not a father nor mother image which is without form or indeed tangible with any of the six senses that is if you count the mind as one. There is a passion that is so overwhelming that worldly ambition has nothing to offer nor any relationships. I am a hermit living in the world and fast becoming not of it.
It feels like an actual pain, a sword of fire which not even the cool waters of the brook can stem the thirst nor the shade of the glade on a burning hot day can assuage. It makes me want to cry out ' where art thou oh Lord, Mother of my heart, keeper of my soul, yet I seek thee and cannot see you yet I know you are there, let me join with you and stop this pain, the pain of separation, and yet what is there to be separated from?' I go into strange words of expression and still come nowhere to it.
It is a feeling, a devotion to a knowing that consumes my very soul, and cries out 'where is this God, My God'? The very word God to some is nebulous and 'thin on the ground' yet to merely say the Source, The Creator, Cosmic Consciousness, The All in All, that is omnipresent, omnipotent, and omniscient falls very short of a description or any definition.
To my Buddhist teachers and faith priests I have encountered they may differ, the Sensei and Sifu may say I am still in the world of delusion and whilst there is is the slightest notion or smidgen it cannot be the Buddha ' for if you see the Buddha advancing towards you fell off his head' and the priests may say ' it is the whispering voice in the wilderness of your soul, it is the call of God beckoning you to come home to His Presence'.
Yet I am consumed by a fire that burns in me, I know with everything I have, mind soul and body, this is my love, my true beloved and I know with unshakable firmness this is the feel of the almighty one, one without equal and I have to be roasted and barbecued, placed on the spit of this alchemy until there is nowt left of me and rinsed out, dried and cured then there is only IT.
SHACK
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