From far up the ethereal sky
Through planes and states did I spy
A river flowing with the fluid of Time.

I saw this fluid Time precipitate
From planes Above to material state
Where upon descent it would gather and flow.

From Above, this river Time’s beginning
And it’s wild meandering continuing
On and ever on was all in view.

The tiny stream I did see travel
Through the plains of Planes, unravelling
Beauty as it unceasingly flowed.

I saw the slinking narrowness
Of this seemingly beauteous
Small piece of all of what is Creation.

I could see the potential experience:
I could see the river’s uneasiness;
I could see it lead out to the expanse;
I could see distributaries and channels;
I could see fluid Time’s beginning;
I could see all Time’s end:

Where unto the vast expanse it went,
And the fluid evaporated there and then
Back to the States from which it came.

Enthralled by this I forgot myself
And by Desire and Will left the wealth
Of Supremacy and Knowledge that I had.

I thought it safe – the river ran
And led one back to where Time began:
Evaporating back to the states Above.

Through illusion of safety and selfish greed
I left Perfection thinking I had need
To travel down that fateful river Time.

The steepness of the banks of Time,
Too steep for most to easily climb,
Could not be seen at all from Above.

The River’s banks too high and long;
Too high to see the Planes beyond:
Heights distorted as seen from Above.

Through chasmic walls the River wound
So that no thing could be seen around
Each of it’s myriads of twists and bends.

The view ahead on the river, so short,
Unsure, so limited; and behind – distorted
By waves and spray, darkness and haze.

On Earth – this raft – I travel the river
With flesh for oars do I paddle hither
Struggling for Breath above the fluids.

When from paddling my flesh does tire,
No longer shall the flesh respire –
And I drift with the fluid of Time.

Then once rested I do take another oar
And though seeming vain do I paddle more,
And again do tire and cease to respire.

But with each new oar thus taken;
With new methods and style I awaken
And paddle more efficiently than before.

I cannot see ahead, or behind with eyes;
About the Planes beyond Time I must surmise,
For the walls of the chasm are too high.

In my pathetic struggling I did forget
The view I had from above the river’s wet
And winding, blinding way; forgot it all.

Forgot the Planes beyond the walls;
Thought nothing more was – Time was it all.
But slowly I remembered from where I came.

With few charts at all to lead the way back,
I must awaken in me what in this journey I lack:
The Light from Above; Knowledge complete in Love.

The way to the path leading up the banks
And Above river Time and back to the ranks
Of Complete Triune Selves shall be travelled by me.