Time ticks forward into the pulse of illusion. Days pass as though with a breeze into the unknown. From where has time come, and to where does it go when what is is no longer, and what had not been has arrived inside the tangible nature of what is? I am standing there. I feel the pulse move throughout my body. Its motion that of rises and falls. There is life breathing. I feel it against my skin the way mysteries turn magical and realities change. I can only close my eyes and allow the Way its way. I fall floorward surrendering to all that is vast that the four corners of life meet me there at the intersection of my prostration. I have bowed. My head has touched the tip of your right foot making bare my soul. The energy is pure. The essence of the Light feels of electricity branching like trees inside my body. I am rooted down deep where the hiding place keeps calm the cries. I am held there in the dark moist of your richness. I feed from you and feel what it means to be whole, what it means to thirst no more.