Mother


It’s true that having something,

serves the thing it does.

In doing, becomes nothing.

That nothing that you love.

 

It may be odd to think this way,

about you, Mother dear.

But ask yourself, in each passing day,

‘what dull thoughts do appear?’

 

So please take comfort in the fact,

you’re spared of such mundane.

Know instead, that I thought that…

“perhaps you thought the same?”

 

It’s not the daily toil of life

that gives rise to your gift.

It’s all the things that “I” contrive,

which having you does give.

 

True, having you does something.

It guides my every move.

Most things I do, mean nothing,

but you’re there to approve.

 

Seldom my thoughts leave myself,

but I have pondered this:

Is there something that for yourself,

provides that ‘nothing’ bliss?

 

Well…no use in comparing,

the things that ‘something’ brings.

But in hoping you have something,

my ‘nothing’ disappears.

Still, it Shakes


This world, so big, my eyes reveal,

the vastness I surround.

The stillness shakes my soul to feel.

The stillness shakes, the vast is found.

Still…vastness needs a lot of time,

in which it has been still.

Still I’m shaking, more time I pine;

for stillness, not my own decline!

But that same vastness is achieved,

when seeing wonder in the vast.

Still…shaking I am not aggrieved,

for shaking lives and stillness lasts.  

Charity (revised)

Charity is, a characteristic,

peceived beyond realistic.

Becomes the personality,

with power in reality.

 
Charity, the characteristic,

prevails in those who risk it.

It’s pascal’s Wager, wins always,

for charity, for happy days.

 
But charity, that characteristic,

is born from life’s statistic.

As sure as we’re to suffer,

well, charity is our lover.

 

See when you suffer,

you create, the joy of charity.

And should you find yourself at peace,

’tis not long ’til, some poor soul weeps.

Charity

Charity is, a characteristic,

perceived beyond realistic.

Becomes the personality,

with power in reality.

 

Charity, the characteristic,

prevails in those who risk it.

It’s Pascal’s wager, wins always,

for charity, for happy days.

 

But that what charity does present,

diminishes all it represents.

And that what charity does consist,

glows brighter when the plight persists.

 

And when that plight begins to fade,

it’s so-called truth retreats in shade.

Can’t be true then, that what is right,

is only that what, exists in light.

The Nature of Truth


An idea is the perfect form of the thing it relates to by virtue of its limitations within its truth. This is the pure idea, how it exists theoretically and in isolation.
A true idealist can only be a realist in reality. The idea inevitably unravels within the vastness of other infinitely perfect ideas. It is only when it does not unravel, are you a realist.

Infinity is Relative

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We’ve complicated infinity as a concept, by definitively pointing out that it never ends. Of course it’s so hard to conceive of ‘it’ never ending, when ‘it’ is nothing.

Infinity is a description of a specific unending pattern. Infinity doesn’t have to amount to one unending pattern, combined of all unending patterns. That doesn’t make sense, because that couldn’t amount to a whole unending pattern. Such a situation would actually be finite because at some point, isolated unending patterns would cease interacting with other infinite unending patterns…and so the whole ends.