The cure divine

I mentioned ‘the language’ before. This is it. I bathed in this long before I was born. Somehow I can remember. And remembering it brought a tear to my eye. This is poetry supreme straight from the core of what once was but is no more. It reached us finally after years of wandering. Did we really need words to get where we are ? Who needs words anyway ? Forget politics, burn the law, any law, and keep just this. I am not a musician, yet I am this music. Aren’t you ? And those gods, so beautiful, so smooth, those golden lovers, forever the same. I would so want to be able to touch them. Be worthy of their grace. Be among them without saying a thing. As they were. Just like that. I believe ! Why ? Why was I born so late ? Why do I have to be part of the plastic era ? I am an Aquarius after all. I didn’t sign up for this. Neither did she. The source. I am breathless, yet I’ve never felt so alive. Waves of feelings are reaching my mind feeding me unearthly knowledge. I am but a soul. I am the environment. So light. Floating as if I were there still. As if I were there already. Humble. But free. So free. Why can we no longer speak the language in the plastic era ?

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