God and Babylon says the Body Dreaming

Dog Poet Transmitting.......

Bypassing the Petri Dish... headed straight for Origami; this chill gray day... forces in motion for Visible (not Visible 2.0) transiting... tiny dish of K preparing itself in the athanor... parsimonious or circumspect universe... which is it? ...gratitude irrespective in any case... cut to post/


We’ve heard that life is a dream. We’ve heard it in children’s songs and adult love songs and we weave through it in the course of our lives. The dream is powerful. It is very powerful. Right in the midst of it we think ourselves awake as we reflect on the dream quality but this is dreaming too.

We dream because of the body. The body is the ship of Morpheus. In our minds we have the whole thing backwards. We actually wake up when we die, until then we dream. ...Dreams of action and things to come in the early days and dreams of reflection and inconsistent memories in the later days; the body is a dream suit. It’s a grounding device for the yearning spirit. It’s what makes you visible here.

It takes a great and consistent effort to awaken from the spell of dreaming. It begs the question too; are those awakened or partially awakened also dreaming? We’ve all had that dream where we are trying to wake up and cannot and then we wake up and think we are awake only to find that we were still dreaming when we actually woke up.

The dream elements are Fire, Air, Water and Earth. Stare into the flames of a fire and note the hypnotic state that comes upon you. Your dreaming thoughts travel in the air. Water is the very essence of the dreaming state. It pools and puddles and flows. It pours. It rages and it lies still. It mirrors the dreamer in the dreaming state. Earth is the composition of the debt of presence. It is the handfuls of substance that generates the dreams the way it conspires with Sun (fire) and Rain (water) to produce the fruits and grains, the flowers and the weeds. Each of these are major dream worlds. The seeds of dreams travel upon the air. They land in every kind of soil. Everything is metaphor.

The most unusual thing about the dream is this. There is this eternal system that combines and separates. It is infinitely pregnant with possibility and abundance. It is the actual operation of demi-God elements weaving one another into the circumstances of the dreaming life. We look right at it but do not see it. It surrounds us but somehow it is invisible. It has consistency and uniformity and that gives it the appearance of something real but it is turning and twisting and changing all the time. It is coming and going. Can anything be real that is no longer what it was? This is that relative world.

Billions of souls, ...each of them weaving carpets; singly, in concert, in great concert. The uncountable fingers of the mind’s industry. They work with the pattern. They work against the pattern. They change the pattern but it is all directed from a central point out of which the spiral spins. The immensity of the many little industries is staggering. The larger collections of villages and towns... the larger collections of cities and states... the larger collections of nations and continents and hemispheres all... dreaming individually and collectively at the same time. The power at the dream centers is greater. You can hear the actual threads of the dream turn into temporary symphonies of collected sounds. Car horns and voices tuned in the wind to a pitch of synchronicity. It hums up off the pavement. The bass drums of the buses and lorries.

God moves in the dream and can be recognized by his qualities. What are the qualities of God? When you see them you know God has been there. Religions are like intricately woven carpets. The more it weaves to the marketplace the more it takes upon itself the character of the market and the less you know of the thing itself. Well.... Actually it perverts and is no longer the right carpet. The true carpet shimmers with light. It bleeds in remarkable colors all woven from white light. It pours down from the snow capped mountains and colorizes the valley. One thinks of the Ganges or the Nile or the Euphrates. Fecund and ever birthing anew. Mystery and dreams.

Babylon does not need to be named Babylon to be Babylon.

God knows the heart of everyone. From the particular, through vast time and circumstance, the divine weaves the singular thread into the warp and woof. Light and dark combine for contrast and motivations multiply outward to the crystallization of the hard currency of the world and the horned emperor who sits astride the dual world with the dual horns that proclaim the balanced interaction and exchange of commerce where everything is for sale and everything has a price and it’s not the one you see on the tag but everything does not have a price in the wakening realm but everything comes at a cost. Some things are priceless and free simultaneously at the cost of experience or practice.

Who’s who and what’s what is defined in the presentations. I recall something about a dog retuning to the vomit but there goes the beauty.

The dream is very much like a kaleidoscope infused with particular waves of music which set the mood. As the larger appetites acquire to themselves more and more of what they could never possibly use in a personal way while denying access in a general way the world becomes disagreeable. The funny part, if it’s funny at all, is that there is more than enough for everyone. Look at the effort of a single apple tree.

The body is a coffin. It’s a time release capsule and a cassette in the player.

Somehow the dreamer needs to come into harmony with the dream. There is the false harmony of ‘going along to get along’ and then there is the actual t’ai chi of the thing as it moves toward the greater purpose. If I mention feng shui, you might think I was turning Chinese but... you use what fits to accommodate. The Chinese are interesting and you have to admit, the creator made a lot of them. Something in the dream is moving there and soon to become something different than it was. Brooding is a kind of dreaming and small collections of self-important leaders are brooding about things as if they had anything to do with anything. They think they do but they are dreaming. Brood on.

Awakening is the light that illuminates the threads in the carpet. This happens at times the same way that the music changes and it is important to note that there are a number of super highways going in certain directions and some slender paths that are not without their amenities.

This is happening now. There’s a general direction and there’s the unpredictable you. Consider it a spice.

On it goes.

Visible sings: ♫ And We Could All Be Free ♫
'And We Could All Be Free' is track no. 8 of 10 on Visible's 2006 album 'Songwriter'
Lyrics (pops up)