Alchemia (“Allchemy”)
In its apparently distinct forms,
we discover where magic comes from…
Not in becoming something else,
but in remembering that all else is allways here now.
An illusionist once told me,
“My act is to make you believe
that what you think is true.”
I pressed and asked for clarity.
He looked at the insanity
that lived in me and said,
“The fun in magic is not to know.”
The flair, the pizzazz,
the magic trick known as
the illusion of confusion,
separation as apparent,
is sustained in the appearance
of what is here, and disappears
by consent,
guided by a known mystery,
one that hides
transmutation inside.
All that is one
can be believed
to be more than two
or less than three.
With conviction and decree,
it has guided what you see.
At its core,
we ignore
that all magic that is seen,
the illusions in a dream
that we strive to believe,
are ever-present
in essence,
as we choose to cling
to a mystical unknown,
a thrill of being lost,
secretly hidden, it would seem.
When all is All, imbued and woven,
then we find true alchemy
is a recognition in you and me,
that the separate living dream
is sustained, or so it seems,
because we cannot let go
of the illusion we know,
the dissolution of the soul.
Transcendental sorcery.
Eyes are opened,
and the breeze
carries all magical pleasantries.
All is here as you and me.
One more thing he said to me,
“I only show what you want to see.”
He didn’t want to give away the show.
Everything we see is gold.
