God

so to imagine a oneness of the world, pre-world and the glorious after-world, of shriveling shrubs and aging trees and the moss that shrouds them. the veiled creatures of the underworld and the dew-dripping caves at one with the tangy citrus-green fluttering plumeage of peroqueets and the brush of the nectarine pollen they feed on. imagine a oneness that is all-inclusive, of cells of mitochondria of tri-bi-univalent compounds and isomers and chimeras (?) of droplets of fat and bodies of water and stretches of planets and rocks formerly known as planets. of the souls of daffodils and yellow-striped bees, of the aura stemming from a garden of carrots and plump zucchini infiltrated by a network of rabbits. of the shrill screams of a che-guevarian crowd combined with the silence of glistening aristocracy interrupted by a staccato of guzzling gulps of frizzy champagne. imagine the hands of a strangling murderer melting in a pot beside the tears of a parched mother. imagine john lennon melting with britney spears. anyway. you get the picture. that beginning, end and now are all just a now. now for eternity and before eternity.
that you pray, you are inspired, by that. by the fact that god is that 'thing' that bond with the 'every-thing-else'. that whatever you do is not a matter of reward or punishment or heaven or hell or even nothing at all. that your action and the consequence of your action or even an action in terms of thought will affect the 'everything else' including you, because you are part of this big bosom of ONE, and that ONE is you, is everything else. the alive and the non-alive. time and timelessness. sense and senselessness.
when things are falling apart around me and i rage.. and i question the brutal rape of innocence by this neon-harsh reality of 'life' as we call it, there are moments of serenity that decend like the whisper of silk on a luscious carpet to whisper that it is not about me as me that this series of unfortunate events is linked to this frame we think we are born in but remove the frame and the whiteness of thebackground will merge like honeyed butter with the whiteness of the everythingelse. that time is a human variable caught on the hem of the frame trying to escape through a splintery crack, dragging all else with him and squishing us painfully in the process. but once that little essence of a droplet of time squeezes out (of the human frame) then there is no series no events just God just the everything that is bound and unbound yet always bound. that the word everything is limp, lifeless because there is no separation no single digits no plurality just a ONE.
so this, agnostic that i am, is my take on things, on 'God', when i'm optimistic.
now when i'm down in the hole, in the dumps and pits, another story. in another post.