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Slowly

,

as

waves

recede

,

my

expanding

spirit

shrinks

back

into

earthly

dimensions

—

not

voluntarily

,

because

I

would

prefer

to

lose

myself

,

but

I

am

pulled

from

below

,

back

to

myself

,

into

myself

,

so

that

for

just

one

moment

I

am

on

the

couch

again

,

fitting

the

fingers

of

my

awareness

into

the

glove

of

my

flesh

.

And

I

know

I

can

move

this

fin

ger

or

wink

that

eye

—

if

I

want

to

.

But

I

don

’

t

want

to

move

.

I

will

not

move

!

I

wait

,

and

leave

myself

open

,

passive

,

to

whatever

this

experience

means

.

Charlie

doesn

’

t

want

me

to

pierce

the

upper

curtain

of

the

mind

.

Charlie

doesn

’

t

want

to

know

what

lies

beyond

.

Does

he

fear

seeing

God

?

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Or

seeing

nothing

?

As

I

lie

here

waiting

,

the

moment

passes

during

which

I

am

myself

in

myself

,

and

again

I

lose

all

feeling

of

body

or

sensation

.

Charlie

is

drawing

me

down

into

myself

.

I

stare

inward

in

the

center

of

my

unseeing

eye

at

the

red

spot

that

transforms

itself

into

a

multipetaled

flower

—

the

shimmering

,

swirling

,

luminescent

flower

that

lies

deep

in

the

core

of

my

unconscious

.

I

am

shrinking

.

Not

in

the

sense

of

the

atoms

of

my

body

becoming

closer

and

more

dense

,

but

a

fusion

—

as

the

atoms

of

my

-

self

merge

into

microcosm

.

There

will

be

great

heat

and

unbearable

light

—

the

hell

within

hell

—

.

but

I

dont

look

at

the

light

,

only

at

the

flower

,

unmulti

-

plying

,

undividing

itself

back

from

the

many

toward

one

.

And

for

an

instant

the

shimmering

flower

turns

into

the

golden

disk

twirling

on

a

string

,

and

then

to

the

bubble

of

swirling

rainbows

,

and

finally

I

am

back

in

the

cave

where

everything

is

quiet

and

dark

and

I

swim

the

wet

labyrinth

searching

for

one

to

receive

me

.

.

.

embrace

me

.

.

.

absorb

me

.

.

.

into

itself

.

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That

I

may

begin

.

In

the

core

I

see

the

light

again

,

an

opening

in

the

darkest

of

caves

,

now

tiny

and

far

away

—

through

the

wrong

end

of

a

telescope

—

brilliant

,

blinding

,

shimmer

ing

,

and

once

again

the

multipetaled

flower

(

swirling

lotus

—

that

floats

near

the

entrance

of

the

unconscious

)

.

At

the

entrance

of

that

cave

I

will

find

the

answer

,

if

I

dare

go

back

and

plunge

through

it

into

the

grotto

of

light

beyond

.

Not

yet

!

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