The fabric of reality;
The architecture of a flower,
To an ascetic, is dimensionality,
A lecture on true power.
The numbers and rhythms;
Fibonacci and Pythagoras,
Express the Mathematics of Eternity,
Increasing our awareness.
Every leaf then becomes a workbook,
Every geometry, a teaching,
To scale the mental heights,
To our furthest, most lofty reaching.
The ascetics and the scientists
are twins, actually not adverse,
These sojourners,
These discoverers of the Universe.
These naturally multidimensional,
infinite thinking, feeling, beings ~
Wrapped up in the fabric
of all their dreams.
These young immortals,
Sleeping still,
The call beckons as
The Universe wills...
The teacher is teaching,
The students who listen,
To His Ancient and perfect wisdom.
Just as every person is an artist,
In some unique way,
So too, The Creator, has His Arts,
For He spoke into existence,
The night and the day.
His life's work; the whole creation...
And we, the created, observe,
He teaches us very openly,
Through what is seen and heard.
To Perceive the Universe at peace,
Is to behold a simple Rose,
You see its beauty with your eyes,
You smell its perfume with your nose.
The thorns and horns
upon the ascending stem,
Are there then to protect it,
And only prick you,
If you presume to grab it.
Using your higher senses,
You become a higher self,
To navigate Heavens defenses,
Attaining true wisdom and wealth.
He knows all the stars by name,
But also by number,
This genius of God,
Is an eternal brilliant wonder.
