There is a state of consciousness
in which the collective
loses its identity—
even its sense of being collective,
though it is shared by all.
It is together,
yet not united.
And there is another state,
where we learn
our inevitable integration as one—
where we see
how delusional
our dream of separation has been.
Where vision clears,
and we recognize
how inverted
our former sight was.
The more we insist on self,
on wants,
on the forces that pull inward—
ego and possession—
the more we are pushed
away from the real self,
the core within objects,
and the more inevitably we yo-yo—
not losing, not finding
who we really are,
only demonstrating the error,
imitating the wrong gravity,
mistaking contraction for depth.
Until one day
we turn inward truly,
toward our essence,
and discover:
There is no God but the center
we share,
the within we orbit.
And as the Persians have named God,
we learn:
the more we orbit,
pushing back toward the center,
the more an unhinged orbit
recovers its spiral self—
its true turns of return.
