Even the eyes are beautiful, once they open, they close on death. In the period between opening and closing, do the sleeping eyes absorb anything? Not only do they bring the heart and mind to the face, but the whole being collapses in the pupil of the eye.
If they emit fountains of color and light, then they also absorb the colors of the outside at every moment. Sometimes the height of the sky, sometimes the contrast of the sun, sometimes the gloom of the moon, sometimes the tides of the seas take refuge at their feet. One scene after another, then scene after scene, then background, as if this door of the body remains open for every scene. What did my eyes see, what did they understand, what did they lose, what did they gain, who did they adopt, who did they reject, where did they go astray, where did they reprimand, what scene did they remember, who did they forget, who did they talk to, who did they turn away from, Where they rose, where they bowed, where they became hearts, where they fell in love, where they fell in love, where they wanted to tear them apart, there is a never ending scenario that descends through the pen into the spirit of paper. Has gone
When I close my eyes, the inner eye begins to blink. When I open my eyes, I become an eye. It seems that all the eyes of the universe have come to my existence. Every angle breaks new horizons of revelation.
When the inner eye is opened, the outer eye becomes restless. He wanted to console the astonished eyes but no one was involved in the search. Asked from the heart, he became an eye. When I asked the mind, many eyes became bright inside him. When asked about the soul, its radiance revealed new worlds.
I don't understand what I am seeing, what is hidden from the eye and what is not hidden. What is seen is not, everything is deception, falsehood, illusion, what the naked eye cannot see is the same truth, the same truth, the same quest, the same path, the same destination, the same dream, the same interpretation. Yes, darkness deceives, the eye understands this deception. Even in the darkness, the searching eyes open the veil of darkness and see what they want to see. Darkness cannot be a wall in the path of sight.
Eyes know how to tear down every wall along the way. Provided I am skilled, have dedication, have fun and have fun, have such a world of passion that everything comes in ecstasy. The universe should be danced by wearing curls in the feet, the drum should be somewhere else, the dance should be somewhere else. This is the extreme of eye mysticism.
If birth is one extreme, then death is the other extreme. We, the earthly people, are imprisoned between these extremes. The more we are compelled, the more powerful we are. As much as there is devotion, as much as there is longing, so much power will come to us. Then everything becomes clear, there is a door of awareness. They go, the curtains rise, the real spectacle is seen. You just have to be more discriminating with the help you render toward other people. When the inner eye sees one scene after another, the outer eye is overwhelmed with wonder.
This universe is amazing. All you need is a watchful eye. When the surprised eyes looked around, everyone felt their own. Each eye had its own eye and each light had its own light. My eyes, don't be mine. Scattered throughout the universe, they were recorded on the face of every scene. In this exchange, all eyes became my eyes. All the images were mine, all the colors, all the passion, all the fun was inside me. The blood running in the veins was chanting. The heart was weeping in someone's memory. There was a noise that sometimes faded into silence, sometimes into lions and into the existence of paper.