MOUNTAINS MOVE.

On Mon, November 24, 2014, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

‘Unless your heart be the size of a grain of mustard seed, mountains are moving.’~

It may be true to say that mountains move. At least, whenever i look i find them to be moving. Better still than moving mountains is to be able to be moved by them. Though many may remain unmoved, and move along lacking a loving look.

It may be true to say that mountains rise up from the earth, and equally true to say they fall down to the sea. They are even seen to be rising from the deep. Diving like leviathans down to the ocean floor, only to arise again as a distant shore.

Peaks are often seen in passing, half hidden by a range of hoary hills. Like diving dolphin fins, or starkly surreal as spectral ships with sombre silhouetted sails.

 

Vanishing behind rising ridges like humpback whales with scaly skin, brooding dark against a sinking twilight sky.

While, on a still and distant gulling cry of day, a blue limpid liquid mirror laps. Fringed by froth and foam of lulling fronds, the slow rise and fall seeps back between singing stones, a line erased to sink in silted sand. The swish and pull of the swaying sea.

Low window view between backyard walls, of a distant peak. A constant kitchen companion, weather warning from the west. When opaque grey approaching rain, blanks the mountain long before a downpour pelts the glass.

A quiet inner affection pervades all such small familiar facets and details of the day. The worldly world of war regards as mundane facts, void of innate significance. Insulating ego from feeling, present poetic beauty in the ordinary.

Naturally, noting such as being signs and promptings for projects of imaginative creation, the mountain called forth an intent, the seed of peak experience. Through days of late November rains.

A new day dawned though i woke late, to a pure blue oasis of a day. Down to the round curved strand and jutting headland. Flat low tide around the promontory point, to see what the sea had to say.

Zooms fall short of the pyramid-peak, rugged ridged with rounded shoulders down, and the island’s tail bearing small green fields below.

Boulders backed by a cleft cliff face, scattering the rock strewn place. Black stones green stained dragged down to where the tide turns.

Spreading outward across a smooth expanse of unprecedented cloud-free cobalt sky and sea, such that adequate words fail me.

The focus of original intent ‘literally’ moved by circumstance or chance, to ‘pan out’ (could that be a pagan term?) the context all inclusive and there may be a lesson there.

Being but an exploratory trawl, casting about for artistic inspiration and netting a good catch, twenty seven shots in all. Many other possible focusses reflected on along the way in coming round to the point.

But what a calm and tranquil sea. Cloud-free sky as blue as blue can be.

A wish of peace in late November.

Images of beauty to remember. ~

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Martin Rainbowmaker.

SOPHIA’S PLUNGE.

On Saturday, October 18, 2014, Martin Law <martin.rainbowmaker@gmail.com> wrote:

ENJOY YOUR TRIP. 

 

 

Mother Earth spins at 1000 miles per hour, and orbits the sun at 67000 miles per hour, which orbits the galaxy at 4883000 miles per hour, constantly entering unknown and uncharted territory where different conditions apply.

There are 500 billion galaxies in the known universe. There are, at least, 260 billion universes in the multiverse. The total figure typed out in 12 point type would be 260 million miles long. Beyond every ‘limit’ there is always infinitely more, without limit.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

In Wild Earth Wisdom we trust, flowing via Sophia from the core. Shoots upward from Lyran roots she first seeded reckless in Orion.

Her impassioned plunge a vast wave, pearlescent celestial burst from seminal spirit source. Staining incendiary seething stars archaic with catalytic alchemy.

Unravelling anomalous free fall unprecedented down through density’s spiralling curve, caught in the over arcing currents of flow, spread to infinity. Sizzling plasmatic in anachronistic alchemical synthesis.

Whirlpools spinning from friction in the long drag on downward , mutating wildly, crystalizing in deviant diversity, sparking inorganic versions of the theme, unintended cloning in clusters of neonate part-formed parasitic peripheral plague.

Till her serpentine umbilical tail turns over into herself, spinning spiral into sphere, crackling compressed crystalline sediment into synthesized spirit substance. Settling embryonic and foetal, incubating as an informed spherical Sophianic seed.

Still reeling from the first primal petrific shock of stunned anomaly, she regenerates ‘sui generis’ generous genesis, ensouling substance infused with spirit essence. Improvising multifarious diversity of sentient forms flowing forth from her fertility.

Our anthropoidal form envisioned in ‘her’ image, one with the weave and folds of pre-planetoid Aeonic essence, our body the fruition of ever-evolving celestial raiment.

Teeming with outrageous permutations, imbued with divine self-determination and spontaneous wisdom/beauty we glibly call ’life on Earth.’ This sublime self-creating sphere blooms and blossoms exponentially throughout a seam-free spectrum of macro/microcosmos.

She is awakening in lucid dream in the midst of the heat of battle. Signals pulsate through a mycelium of stellar synapses, synchronized through the solar deity in conjunction with massive electromagnetic waves.

The relentless inorganic parasitic hordes are exposed in ever expanding concentric ripples of luminescent organic living light from the plenitude of the central core.

Huge monolithic blockages crack open and burst their banks, flooding to flourish and nurture, tending toward balance and equilibrium. Antagonists overreach themselves, leaving in their wake only ungrounded irrelevance and disintegrating isolation.

The illusion of separation is perceived to be a temporary delusion on the face of underlying unity, which then establishes unshakeable roots culminating in fruitful abundance.

A critical mass regenerates and swiftly supersedes the remnants of irrelevance, which wilt for want of the wisdom of water. The ignorance of arrogance stumbles at the brink of hubris, preceding an ungraceful and ungrateful fall.

All of creation is creative and alive with infinite imaginative intelligence. Perpetually recreating itself in its own image. Seeded by the central source at the heart of all.

Seeds sown and strewn across light-years wide celestial galactic fields. Our precious notions are a pretentious pinprick in infinity. Yet this infinity permeates and perpetuates all our particles, and there is nothing that is separate from the source of everything.

Born in unacknowledged surrender one with all , in Wild Earth Wisdom we trust.

>>>>>> ^ <<<<<<

Martin Rainbowmaker. 

Art: SOPHIA'S PLUNGE, martin law, Oct 2014

 

Footnote.- Refer to John Lamb Lash audios re. ‘Sophia’s Correction’ for full context.

Gaiaspora.org, Metahistory.org and youtube.