The Illuminated God

If I could talk to God,
Dial direct,
Call him nights I cannot sleep but rise like a thirsty animal
A creature of creative instinct
for a lifegiving drink....

I would have asked him...
Dear God...
Was this world created through your grace?
Or Are you, God,
The ultimate evolutionary expression of this universe
To the point
Where universe
Becomes the spoken word
The unconcious verse
Of your concious directing
Thoughts?

If so,
If Space and Time
Are serendipitous
Accidents
Flawlessly designed
From chaos

Carved out of
Infinite Probability...

Till...
You....
Happened...

As inevitability. ...
Of infinite statistical
Possibilities

Then
Your Magnificence
Is
A Million
a trillion times
More attractive
More deserving
Of  homage...
As a Lighthouse
Beckoning us all to a tower
Of Hope. ..

Not Obsequience...
Nor our efforts to reach up
Frowned upon
Like Towering Babel...

So much more
Power to your
Almighty elbow
Than
Predetermined Omnipotence. ..

If truly
You evolved...
By reaching your cosmic mind accross Time and Space
Breaching the mysteries
And curved it with  the ease
Of your superlative
Illumination...

If Thought
Speeding through vaccum
Instantaneously
Serenely laughed out at
Light
As a mere. ..teenager
An immature show off
An young angel
Lucifer!

A fall forgiven
Restored to grace...

Such mercy
That begets mercy
Such love that it
Self starts
The heart of creation
Everywhere. ...
In simultaneity!

Dear God
We pray
That we also may

Wrap up this continuum
in the ease of realization
equalling
Reality.

Dear God....
Are you not telling us
This?

Rise
Son of man
Embrace light
Shake away
Illusions
Of speed....
Or need to
Either
Shock and Awe
Or humbly please.

Breathe
In...and
Out.

Release...
Realize...
Your Mind
Is
Potent Godhood
And Liberated transcends
Light.

It becomes
It's own lightning conductor...
Draining negativity...through
Effortless pulsing black holes...
Sucking out
False belief...
And remembering
Dance of cosmic dreams
At
Eternal Event Horrizons
Of Life. ..
Petrified
Present tense of
Poetry...

Then our truest
Worship
Is
Recognition.

Godhood is our
Ubiquitous
Inner Presence.

Control
Is
Obsolescence. .

I kneel then..
And worship
Thee...
extant
In dormancy...
Within the
Me...

And in the still of the
Silent night
The pulse
Of the universe thuds
Your Godhood
sounding
Conch shells
Of infinite peace...
Infinite bliss...
The supra addition
Of every number
The universe codes in
A
Certitude
Beyond
Belief
In
Cosmic unspoken
Chant.....
OM.....

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(c) Amrita Valan 2014