We enter and leave on a path of white light. Once here, we are red, yellow or blue. The white light is the world as it is, not as we are....

In the white light we see things right. Yet our mind is a prism that puts us in prison. We see things as red, yellow or blue but that's simply not true....

The road ahead is very clear, as the light reveals all that's near. Shadows form from light that's passed, as what is now doesn't last....

Verbs are fluid, time passing. Nouns are imaginary, moments frozen in time. Verbs are the happening, nouns are the happened....

A bell ringing in the empty sky. Sound here, after it's not. Much ringing from times passed. Can't see the sun on a noisy day....

There's nothing new under the sun. All there is is the Burning Bush, ever-changing flames and eternal branches....