Painting by Robert Vinosa

Original text   (Below original text is an expanded version)

My heart is your heart.  I  connect and communicate with you through this sensory inverted universe that contain all parts.  In every moment I  surf this endless ocean. In waking, dreaming, and sleeping you touch me as all of you is completely here.

Your clear daily reflection guides me through our shared breath. I observe, taste, and satiate in every nuance as our connections abounds as it expands and contracts and forms the gross, subtle, and causal mystery.

The space between us reflects our  infinite nature as it showers us with star bursts of sensibilities of the sacred and the profane as we pass through the tree of life we are. Our LUV is written into every fabric of life as it is a rich tapestry of nuances playing through our bodies.

Every movement is an  impeccable dance into unknown horizons as our  courage guides and invites us into intimacy for remembrance of every transgression where we contracted as were we have forgotten to fully breath. In these moments we have lost momentary sight of each other. Our wholeness invites us into natural rest for revelations.

In  the forgetting we have fought every war and as our numbness expanded so did our loneliness as we unknowingly forgot how to intimately communicate.  We abdicated our attunement to the flow of the sensual universe in preference for individual conquest, forcefulness, and elevations.

There are wastelands of horror as our sensory loveliness have been gradually shut down by our own perpetration of violence and deprivation.  We have become hungry ghosts fueled by the deep hurt between us, as we have strategized an economic recklessness that reinforces our misconceptions.

We have replaced  our deeper sensory wisdom for a delusion informed by words that we call knowledge. This tree of knowledge we now cling to for solutions consumes our creativity as it fuels an insatiable appetites for blind productivity as we attempt to recreate our  forgotten union.

We do not know how to dance effortlessly as we now try to think and feel our way back to our union. A union that was never lost as it is in every breath in the spaces between us. A union gifted to us as shooting stars of sensory sensibilities always intimately available to reflect our  infinite nature.

We are the sacred and the profane, as we cycle trough forgetting and remembrance, the very black holes of insatiable appetites that burst forth renewal for infinite creativity. We observe and  reconcile all the passages that inform the sensual tree of life we are.

An edited expansion of the Sacred and Profane.

Edited by Natasha English and Serge  Rochman 

My heart is your heart.  I connect and communicate with you through this sensory universe. Through the sensory system we touch in intimate union the whole of the cosmos. In every moment I surf this endless ocean. In waking, dreaming, and sleeping you never cease to touch me as all of you is always and forever, completely and intimately, here. Our intimacy is endless.

Your clear daily reflection guides me through our shared breath. I observe, taste, and satiate in every nuance as our connections abounds as it expands and contracts and forms the gross, subtle, and causal mystery of our togetherness.

The space between us holds and reflects our infinite nature. It showers us in every moment with star bursts of intimate sensibilities of the sacred and the profane as we pass through the tree of life we are.  Our LUV is written into every fabric of life as it is a rich tapestry of nuances playing through our bodies. We are the tree of life.

Every movement is an impeccable dance. Every step is locked into the impeccability of a perfect performance. We dance upon the unknown horizons as our courage guides us. It invites us into  remembrance where every transgression is a temporary forgetting.

We forget we are dancing in those moments where we contract.  We have forgotten our shared breath. In these moments we have lost momentary sight of each other. Our wholeness dances whether or not we remember the steps. It invites us into natural rest for revelations where the rhythm of our togetherness effortlessly unfolds our true nature.

In the forgetting we have fought every war. We fought ourselves, and became anesthetized to the distress of continual fighting. As our numbness expanded so did our loneliness, as we unknowingly forgot how to intimately communicate.  We abdicated our attunement to the flow of the sensual universe in preference for individual conquest, forcefulness, and elevation.

There are wastelands of horror inside we dare not visit alone. Our sensory loveliness has been gradually shut down by our own perpetration of violence and deprivation.  We have become hungry ghosts fueled by the deep hurt between us, and we have strategized an economic recklessness that reinforces our misconceptions. We feed on pain and cause pain because we have forgotten our original satiety.

We have replaced our deeper sensory wisdom for a delusion. Informed by words that we call knowledge, our infinite intimacy with one another has been replaced by loops of programmed language. This tree of knowledge we now cling to for solutions consumes our creativity as it fuels an insatiable appetite for blind productivity. By producing so blindly we cannot recreate our forgotten union, no matter how hard we try to replicate it by force and technological progress.

We do not know how to dance effortlessly. We think too much and by thinking we try to feel our way back to our union. A union that was never lost as it is in every breath in the spaces between us. A union gifted to us as shooting stars of sensory sensibilities, always intimately available to reflect us – always there as our infinite nature.

We are the sacred and the profane, as we cycle trough forgetting and remembrance, the very black holes of insatiable appetites that burst forth renewal for infinite creativity. We observe and reconcile all the passages that inform the sensual tree of life we are.