Being

From the silence of the deep ocean
Drawn out, a silver fish of consciousness
Eager to dive back, but withheld

Many times I walked the worlds
And lived the loves and lives
With pain lapping as ocean waves on the shore

They say that each cell in out body has memory. There was an experiment by a polygraph expert, Cleve Backster, where some cells scraped from mouth were connected to a polygraph and the person was sitting far away, when the person reacted to some visuals shown to him, the cells that were kept in another room reacted to the stimuli through electrical discharge in the same manner as the person,s polygraph. Even when the cells were taken away from the body the reactions were same? How were the cells still acting as a part of the body even when they were severed from it?

Sometimes I feel just like the above experiment we have the truth of our existence buried deep within us. This rises to the surface at times when there are moments of absolute clarity. The severed soul seeks the whole. How will we ever decipher the music of the univerce where not even a single note is out of place? Each leaf grows at mathematical precision and with subtle aesthetic poetry in place. When soul weeps it reacts to man made reality that plays on the outer side, the shallow means of survival that have come to be, caged in ego. Humans it seems were programmed to move farthest from the essence of being. While a little sea shell sings about the cosmic dance, we drift and drift far from the melody that emanates and surrounds us.