listening to those chants
going places
some may call a fantasy;
a world of dreams,
but to real they feel
to be just that.

galaxies unfolding before
my inner eye, you might say,
but no, they are all surrounding
as if standing in an open room

stars sparkling
colors entwine
green, golden and white
this dust,
mild orange the glow

vast spaces, floating through
no thoughts
just observing, taking in

questions, unspoken
become; answered,
clear as known for years;
no doubts

let go and come in,
go out,
whatever it takes,
it’s all there to share.

no possessions
no religion,
just being and accepting.

3rd in the series of 3, 1st = gaze, 2nd = beyond