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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476812" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On Into The Next Dimension</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">On into the next dimension <br>like a measure of thought <br>sitting full lotus <br>on a flying carpet of feeling <br>that's on the same wavelength as the stars.<br>I've been an intimate of windows long enough.<br>I trust them. <br>But they don't shine. <br>They're confined to the news <br>of what's going on beyond them<br>that's brought to them live <br>by skies they flip through <br>like old Time magazines in a doctor's office. <br>Their eyes are long on views <br>but shy on visions.<br>Cataracts in the eye.<br>Flowers in the sky.<br>If you look through them long enough<br>you'll kill all the wildflowers <br>in your field of vision<br>and your third eye <br>will start grinding lenses for a living<br>like Spinoza <br>for a spiritual telescope with myopia. <br>Clarity will start writing messages in your breath <br>you're meant to take to heart <br>as you watch the universe shrinking <br>like expiry dates on the hot gusts of stars <br>evaporating like ghosts <br>from the cold glassy stares <br>of windowpanes <br>that have been crying in secret for years <br>because they're not taken as seriously as mirrors.<br>It takes a rock of a will <br>and the passion of an angry delinquent <br>to break free of them <br>but once they're broken <br>like the link of a koan <br>that liberated you from your own thought-chains<br>you can still see the whole in every piece <br>of the primordial atom <br>that precipitated the Big Bang<br>but it doesn't get in the way of what's beyond it.<br>You stop lifting fingerprints <br>as evidence that you exist <br>and start lifting veils<br>begin shedding skins <br>stop asking sacred clowns <br>if they can still recognize you <br>under all the facepaint <br>you use to express your emotions. <br>You let your masks blossom and blow away <br>like Ezra Pound's images <br>of faces on a wet black bough of the subway.<br>You empty your streets <br>like a dangerous part of New York<br>and step out of the doorway<br>where you've been waiting for yourself <br>to return home.<br>You exchange the key to the lock<br>for a fork you can fly from a kite <br>like a lightning rod in an electrical storm<br>that sends the snake pit of serpent fire<br>that moved like a glacier in a dream of thawing <br>racing up your spine <br>like a dragon of life <br>urgent as spring rain <br>that sheds its scales<br>like waves and ripples of water<br>but wakes up feathered in flames. <br>And this time it's the sun that drowns <br>for flying too close to Icarus<br>like the event horizon of a black hole <br>that smears its dimensions <br>like peanut butter <br>around the rim of a subliminal halo.<br>Free of the past <br>whatever you see <br>confirms your secret intuition <br>that the world hasn't happened yet. <br>That everything you see <br>in the ubiquitous solitude<br>of your unwitnessed sentience <br>is merely prelude <br>to a greater event<br>that transcends <br>the inconceivability <br>of what's self-evident about the present.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476812" data-title="On Into The Next Dimension de Patrick White" data-description="On into the next dimension 
like a measure of thought 
sitting full lotus 
on a flying carpet of feeling 
that's on the same wavelength as the stars.
I've been an intimate of windows long enough.
I trust them. 
But they don't shine. 
They're confi..."></div>
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