No passion no desire,
Mind’s reflector clear,
Stainless origin,
Sustains in mystic shrine.
Subject sees the objects,
Though no naked eye,
As if the satellite relates,
Live of, ocean, earth, and sky.
The complex, composite,
That our true nature merits,
Hang galaxy from Unconscious,
Between transcendence –calm,
And quiet –quanta’s quintessence jump,
The bridge between finite and infinite focus.
Susopti satellite from body’s lab,
Finds on the earth a physical install,
And plasma unconscious mirrors touch,
Of the super-unconscious already in us.
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