When I look at the blank piece of paper,
I see openness.
It could be anything and yet at the present moment it is nothing.
By creating,
Do I create or do I limit?
It could be anything,
So why that?
Did I choose or was it chosen for me?
Let my conscious mind maneuver and guide,
In spite the fact that I'm spiritually blind and still controlled by foreign forces,
Trying remorseless to make space for the divine.
What's mine is yours and what's yours is yours.
I don't have anything that's mine.
Not my thoughts,
Not my actions,
My understanding,
Just tiny fractions of the whole.
And what's my control?
Do I write the story on the paper or let the source fill in the blanks?
There's beauty in the unknown,
The unshone,
The potential,
The unrevealed,
Because everything is there while still concealed.
Show me the money,
Give me proof,
Let's talk numbers,
It's all just a spoof.
At the end it all disappears and we land where we started.
Where others see nothing,
I see the vast openness.
To create,
To explore,
To imagine things that were never there before.
It's all there with no limitations,
No self-imposed expectations that follow disappointments.
Why are you disappointed?
Who said it had to go your direction?
Maybe just an egotistical projection.
Wouldn't you want to see the Creator's reflection?
Then I tell you one thing.
Look in the mirror.
And you will see it right there.
A perfect creation created in a perfect image.
The most exclusive vintage,
Maybe not fully ripe yet,
But it's on its way.
If you take care of it every day,
If you don't fall prey to self-doubt and self-sabotage,
You will have the entire angelic heavenly entourage.
And it will show you the openness of all possibilities.
