THE MEDIUM OF MAKING _ MEMORY.

 

Do we invest?

 

Do we gain reputation through age?

 

Ultimately are we really true to ourselves?

 

Medium, large, small, extreme from one end to the other, means we are in the middle.  As 'BRINKMAN' suggests: Denoting - 'The Man at the Centre of Town' I am a ‘medium’.  An intermediate position, or condition is not deemed highly academically or otherwise, but to be a medium means one has an innate ability to contact the spirit world.  Spiritually we are the most in tune.

 

Medium also means intervening means, instrument or agency, where by communication is maintained, the paint on the palette.  Communication of art as well as vocal, or sung.  A channel through which information is transmitted, radio/TV/News.  Material on which data is recorded.  An average, or money in circulation.  Is it all pedestrian or pedant?  Pedant I would say for its control.  (Only pedestrian for its formal repetition).

 

The familiarity of mediumship means we have indignant realisations.  We ultimately know, as mediums.  But does it take a trance or remedial action which is out of head remediless in truth, to control oneself by digging deeper.  There comes a surge.  Heaven is open, so let us bring it to the ground.  Now we know why.

 

Who's in?

 

Ownership and uninterrupted play.

Is that really you in there?

 

Entitlement to freedom.

 

That is not really real;

Above and beyond,

Is a memory of truth.

 

Only control holds it together.

 

When lives rise.

 

So do mine.

 

Remember control is not forever.

 

Heaven resides in the oceans.

Oceans 7.

Oceans 11.

Make a surge,

To the coast.

Blue reflective voice,

From forces,

Of space.

An original planet.

 

Vast.

 

Thunder started.

It is the mellow drama,

And real action of rain,

Lightning,

From above my head,

That clasps my nervous system.

 

'BANG!'

 

The World begins,

And the World ends,

And the World begins again.

Tied to Universal,

Microscopy,

Energetic fields.

I may own them.

'The keeper'.

 

Nothing but chaos ensues.

Then the lakes,

The calm, the break.

The serenity,

Of a hand,

On thigh.

Mirador-Mirage

Enter.

 

Ask and Answer.

 

The essence is thus, like Davy Jones' locker.  The sea opens and swells, closes and calms the spiritual tumult.  The waves of electro-magnetic: (heat) gravitational energy and space warped, surge the spirit world to cause us civilians headaches, bodily functional problems, dependencies and incursions.  The surge must be tamed to be understood, this planet wants and denies chaos.  This planet needs us and the spirit world to unify as a cyclopean organism.  Some dwell in the history of metaphorical romance: of stories, sharing past and making a future of memory.

 

Others will rage.