I am being shown realities:
Veneer thin yet compacted together
And each of them is a world.
Often music accompanies these glimpses
Music that is full, loud, vibrant and rich
Instruments that I do not know
Music that I do not know
Music from other lands beyond this earth.
When humanoids sing without music
It is more beautiful; more pure and full;
Than any voice living that I have heard.
There is no need for microphones
For the music comes straight into my head
And fills it.
I do not know who is showing me these things
I do not know It's name or state of being
But I feel that It resonates as a male
(Although these things are tricky,
And one can be more than one)
I will call it "He", for want of a better title
Not as an act of worship.
He took me to a hollow between
Rounded green hills
Pointing with I don't know what
He lit the sky (which was grey-white)
With living pictures; like parts of different films:
On each part that He pointed at
He could punch his way between worlds
And push through the membrane in the sky
Between one land and another;
One world and another.
I have been told that if I look closely enough
I will find that the Universe is an illusion.
I have seen pictures of peoples lives being played on the sky
By the druids once before
At night between groups of arched trees.
I have seen places unlike this earth I know
Yet there seems to be a unification throughout.
Our ears can only perceive
Through the human range of our bodies
As can our eyes only see a certain range of colors,
But if vision and sound are funnelled directly into the head
Then can be seen and heard different colors,
As I have seen and heard
And this is only the tiniest part
Of what can be perceived
And of what is.
He said "All day you dream about me",
"A sea of affairs", and thus I dreamt,
And remembered only the waking resonances
The answer to half-awake questions
Which I do not now remember
But I am trying to write down what I saw
And I can't.
Yet I saw at least three other worlds
A hair's breadth from this one
Some like; some unlike;
Yet all with a unifying principle.
To break through a distance equivalent to one inch
Would be to break through fifty or more worlds;
This is how tightly they are fixed
How closely held together.
And I remember now,
Waking from visions of a future world
That I knew well
But which faded as I woke.
This was not a dream:
It was vision and being
Beyond the racket of dream.