Under the spell of meditation, silent pathways of the inner mind open into invisible splendor; quiet pools brim with water from the secret depths of the void, amber thrones rest besides black gulfs of emptiness: to watch the black stars swim in obscure arcs, to wander among the shadows of the void, to listen to the soft warm laughter of the void. If we look into the void, beyond the shores of being, beyond the light of the central fire, then vision goes both inward and outward, refracting back a dim illumination, beyond which there is no boundary, no limit or final reflection.
|
|
|