If spiritual ideas were the
consonants of this 'other language,' then the kernels of truth hidden within those
ideas were the vowels. They gave the pronunciation – the life of it – the sound
of Life. The sounds in one word
flowing in with those of another word, in the Spirit, made another language . . . another sense altogether-other, than
the outer-look of the first sense, which seemed as nonsense . . . which wasn't
nonsense, at all; it came of itself, so it spoke.
It came of the Spirit. The crazy writer, perhaps nothing but a babbling baby, had
understood; and marvelled: seeing evidence that language as a whole was a
living entity, and a divine gift. It was not of us.
If in a living writing flow
It was surrendered back to the Source
From where it came, it could say more
Going beyond the natural mind
Being greater than the pen which wrote
Or the fingers that touched the keys
Being greater than the fingers that touched the keys
Or the pen which wrote
Going beyond the natural mind
It could say more, from where it came
Surrendered back to the Source
If in a flow of living writing
For wherever the living kernel was
Language could go . . . backwards or forwards
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