Winding around through an open door

winding around through an open door
I come upon myself
surprised, I stop, and wonder
what am I doing here?
my mind seeks some plausible explanation
finding none, it accepts the implausible reality
I look into my eyes and see my own  humanity
deeper within, I see stars
I see a vastness that I cannot comprehend
Somehow, though, I understand
I know this endlessness
I taste the source and abode of my being
a silent nowhere that encompasses all that is
outside of time and ever-present
This is me
I am fed from my source
the formless potentiality that contains within it all I have been and will become
innumerable worlds and incarnations swirl around and through my awareness
as I rest within

Still here

In the interests of keeping this blog from becoming entirely inactive, and of keeping myself writing in some capacity, I am considering broadening the subject matter of my posts.  Until now, I have focused mainly on posting poems as I write them.  Lately I haven't been writing any poems.  This is something I feel a little uncomfortable about as I was rather enjoying the poetry I was writing and the sense of fulfillment that it brought to me.  Poetry has been a great source of comfort for me and one of the ways that I communicate with the divine, call it what you will.  I have been missing this form of communication lately, however I have been hard pressed to follow in  my own footsteps, poetically speaking.  Oddly, when I think about writing a new piece, I mostly hear lines of what I have already written.  I find myself fearing that my inkwell has run dry, and that perhaps I would do well to turn to other ways of communing with the unknown.  This may be true.  I have a feeling, though, that what is needed may be more along the lines of a reevaluation of my persona.  I have recently taken the habit of tentatively placing labels on myself: writer, poet, musician, gardener, lover, asshole.  It has been an interesting experience and experiment to try out these various labels and proclamations of self.  It's difficult to say as of yet what exactly I have gained from all of this experimentation or how and whether it has caused me to grow as an individual.  I have been consciously turning away from some of my more dramatic and esoteric leanings in an effort to become a little more proficient at daily life.  Again, it's difficult to say at this point what the outcome of this attempt will be.  I am hoping to be able to blend my worlds a little better and bridge the gap between the mystical and the mundane.  I cannot bear to murder the mystic in me.  I have very deep reservations about the wisdom of such an attempt and serious doubts as to whether it would even be possible.  On the other hand, I feel that it is almost equally as vital to foster the mundane man in me.  I am of the belief that we are multidimensional beings and that all dimensions coexist together as an ultimately inseparable and interdependent whole.    In other words, I believe that the mystical and the mundane are manifestations of the same essential thing, and that often they are one and the same entirely.  While I find this belief comforting and helpful in interpreting my world, it does not solve the essential problem of living a meaningful life, and still getting the bills paid.