The True Test

The true test of assimilation into transformation is if you can hold it all together within your awareness, or if it slowly dissipates and leaves you lost and hungry for external stimulation. This is the nature of timelessness and wholeness within the seventh sense, for when you begin to be whole and cohesive, there is no difference between now and the moment I first seduced you with my words back on a cold snowy evening in November of ‘94. It is all happening simultaneously throughout eternity, so will always be within you right Now once you are whole, but only a thread of retreating memory until you embrace that cohesion completely. 

The problem is that you are still seeing from the plateau of linear reality, and so time stretches out behind you like a road you traveled long ago, when in the seventh sense reality it is happening right now and eternally forevermore. From where you presently stand, instead of that same energetic seduction flowing through you to ignite the flame to light your path of heart, it is viewed as a past memory and so it leaves you empty and lonely because it does not exist in the Now of your perceptions.

This is another way to glimpse the nature of cohesion. If the things you have learned and the experiences you have amassed are only memories stored in the brain, they are not really a part of Infinite you, but only connected to the physical self, yes? And while it is true that some of these memories have contributed to the wholeness of you and will follow you into eternity, it cannot really be said that they are the heart and soul of you, but only recordings of events which contributed to your personal inventory. We have come to the point in your journey where these things must be made part of you through Doing if they are to have any benefit in your confrontation with the eagle when you face your final test to claim your destiny.

Be gentle with yourself, but also be firm and demanding, for that is the nature of the finest seductions of the Self, yes? This is not an easy concept, and so we will approach it slowly until it yields its secret willingly instead of having to be taken by force. Ah, but never forget that sometimes a firm pressure must be steadily applied to break through into the ecstasy of conjoining utterly with something. And so it is up to each of you to always be caressing the question of your own cohesion and coming to understand its nature by learning to speak its language and coming to see through its infinite eyes.

You’ve come too far to go back to the safe sanctuary of oblivion, and so without this wholeness you would be cast asunder, each individual fragment of your consciousness hurled in a different direction, still aware but without reference, without cohesion, an infinitesimal number of screams echoing endlessly into the abyss, and all of them only what’s left of you and nothing more. Indeed, legends of purgatory arose from the seers who had glimpsed this state and struggled to describe it.

I tell you this so that you might fully comprehend what is at stake and see it as real instead of only philosophical fantasy. Never forget that while some dreams are only midnight masturbations and others lucid journeys brought into being through your own volition, still others might be seen as tests or gifts from what you presently call allies. What matters now, of course, is what you Intend to do about it.

~Della Van Hise

Chrysalis

CHRYSALIS

I twist into these mournings, daylight
saving me
from the burning flame of darkness
swallowing my emptiness
while waves of irony wash over me
i am toppled by the days
and silently
i sit hovering...
wondering if i can float this
time
wandering thru wastelands of
my mind
picking up the book written by me
on the other side of the dream
the other side of the dream
where it all spins into me...
I find all the lost notes
and all the lost tones
and all the lost fractures
of all my mended bones

I am painted the color red.
I am tainted, the mother has bled

we
D
R
I
P
together
thru the weathered web, creating worlds
in our head, to spew out into
the ethers,
to want neither this nor that
nor wonder where its at,
but to birth the beginning
again....
knowing we are just seasons of rhyme

flowering in our own time
chrysalis, wrapped up in a fairytale
of all that is and was and
wasn't for sale...

Across these moonbeams, these split
seams, these written clingings to the dream....
across
all
these
we call to invisible bodies
that are singing in their invisible moments
that are bringing their
soulstuffs into existence
to balance the tension
of the desire to Be,
and to not Be....

and therein....lie......We....
somewhere in between.

CLJ 2004
Linguistic Trickster The Chosen Ones

May the Mirror be Faced

May the Mirror be Faced With new reCognition
A New I born From repetition
Of ancient sounds
Burrowed deep
Within the blessed soul
Who sleeps
Upon the wheel Of premonition
That pokes and prods
This sacred mission
Of god-in-hiding
To forgive the Mind That cries inside him
Divided into whither
And whence
Perched upon hallowed fence
That splits the world From Sight and Sense
The rebirth of Light In the newly born Sun
Til the Name has no number
Not even The One
May the Mirror be Faced With new reCognition
A New l born
From repetition

CLJ 1-1-2026