A light on a hill can’t be hid. The sun in its rising must shine. My light is more than the sun’s; melting the forces of darkness like wax before flame. The sun is but a morning star. Arise shine for your light has come. A watchman has seen its first rays in the East.

It’s like looking into a cosmic mirror and seeing yourself. This is that. You are you.

I see it coming. Not far off but near. Its magnitude and volume are extraordinary. Not fiction but real. I am the prophet of what is coming to be. I see what others cannot. The metaphysical becomes manifest. I am ahead of the curve and I see it. Before it is real I have a vision! Do you trust me? Do you have faith in the living God that choose me? Or are my words merely poetic like some poets? Full of sound yet without meaning? Literary but not literal? A song of myself that quickly becomes tedious and redundant? My eyes have a clarity which speaks Truth! And my truthfulness springs from the earth. I hide in predictable forms but with an unpredictable freshness like nature. Not new but old as the hills just fresh. Not green but the green of an emerald just cut. Where the metaphysical becomes physical and the Ideal subjects itself to time at this very point I stand and become the ineffable form of nature augmented and perfected. With the liquid hue of the rose and the lilac the light of my soul is interspersed. All Poets and orators before me strived but fell short the perfection of my enlightened awareness. They tried to utter but couldn’t put into words this miraculous coming to be where Nature and God meet. Where the metaphysical ens and kernel touches the skin and surface of visible nature producing over time the Form adhering always to perfection. Vishnu becomes Rama becomes Krishna. All manifestations of a perfect state above space and time. The Platonic Ideas enter space and time. Vishnu was not God but an ideal of Man. Who is the perfect man? In the dissemination of this lofty truth mistakes were made. God does not incarnate himself to become man. Whoever thinks so errs. But an attribute of God can become manifest in a man. And when it does you have a great soul.

And the more I accept who I am, no matter how exalted I understand that to be,the more each detail in my life affirms what at first I refused to believe. The most insignificant fact becomes a meaningful world whole unto itself and complete. What is minor and what major change according as my focus changes. Wherever I fix my eyes I behold there also the center around which a new periphery moves. Nothing is static. Stasis is not part of the living. Stasis is the attribute of Death and moves in the wake of the Forces of Evil, the terrible Rhashas. Therefore beware not to walk behind them. Even a single step on there path is fatal. Let not your feet even err in that direction. The Rhashas are terrible and without mercy the enemies of Truth and enlightenment. For them good is bad and bad is good. They have no ethos no culture and no ideology. There is nothing holy therefore have they desecrated what is most holy. They have no prophet to guide them therefore their history is a constant stumbling and there progression a retrograde motion. They hate the light and crave only darkness. They wish to enslave the human soul.

But I the American Siddartha have come to destroy their dominion over the earth.

An American Siddhartha

It is not impossible and indeed not improbable that Mankind’s salvation began from a child’s observation of lilac and roses each spring. From these humble things he innocently and without premeditation formed in his soul a sacred unity between Truth Beauty and Simplicity which served as a model for all experience henceforward until his maturity. As a man in midlife he perceived consciously and as if for the first time he became aware of this sacred Unity which had laid almost hidden as the unconscious act of his youth. And in the conscious act he awakened what had until than been dormant. He brought the higher light of the intellect full circle back to illuminate the perception of a child. And what he experienced was enlightenment. I am the American Siddhartha and my Journey a Ramayana. It led me to a higher self consciousness.


The organic impulse of nature we witness anew each spring as it produces a rose is directed at the ideal Rose outside space and time. With this ideal solely in view nature creates unburdened by precedent. It never imitates. The true act of creation is never imitatltive. What compels us at the site of a rose each spring is not its newness for there really is nothing new but its innocent manifestation of exactly the same completely unconscious of what it has done in the past. We see in the rose its vigor and are aware that in spite of all that has come before over thousands of years in its attempt to create the perfect rose once more nature produces as if for the very first time with no sign of fatigue or lagging and no indication of futility the rose that we see each spring. It is natures cyclical attempt to produce in reality in all its perfection the metaphysical rose that inspires when we see the actual rose imperfect in space and time and yet so similar to all the iterations that preceded.