In the Furthest Reaches,
There is a beast with spinning chakras,
Tossed and lost in the sea of time,
Full of fight and lust and light,
Always seeking control,
Bending the world to his will,
In a sea of dust and evergreen.

But, the Furthest Reaches are not,
So far away, today.
They are seeping into the landscape.
They are leaping over moons and meteors.
They are creeping up through the floorboards,
And, there is always something the beast is wanting.

Either God has given us hands,
So we can take what we want,
Or, we have chosen to focus our intentions,
And, have grown them on our own.
Anyway, we have them now,
And, that’s what makes the difference.

I am leaping over moons and meteors.
I have come out of the Netherworld,
Out of the Furthest Reaches,
And, my red and black, internal shadow,
Is seeping out of the underground,
Is leaping out of the abyss of my fear,
Is creeping up through my floorboards.
He is composed of all the energy of fight or flee,
The energy of survival,
The live-or-die energy.
He is my own howling beast,
Who belches anger,
Or, marches to glory.
He is always on my side,
Willing, fast and furious,
To fight every battle,
And, capable of acts more monstrous,
Than I can even imagine.

There is always something my beast is wanting,
And, I am always hungry.
My appetite is for nourishment.
My hunger for reproduction.
My desire is for acquisition,
For territory, for power,
For attention,
Sensuality, satisfaction,
Luxury and warmth;
All the reasons for being alive.

Above this, and beyond this, and connected to this,
Looms the inexorable, irrepressible urge to grow,
To take over. To be free. To get whatever I want,
To own, to be in control, to be the king,
With no one, ever, over me,
Neither man, nor nature, nor god.
I want to need neither justification nor judgement.
I want to answer only to myself.
I want to take over the world,
And, to rule, as I see fit, without limitations.
But, boy oh boy,
There had better be some limitations.
Some boundaries. Something that says, Stop,
Ravenous one.
Danger ahead.
This is the edge.
Enter here at your own peril.
This is the point of measurement.
The point of balance.
The point of sanity.
The tug-of-war dividing point, defining who I am.
This is the line between evil and good,
And, sometimes I am on shaking ground.
I don’t always know where I stand,
But, even in confusion,
Even when I am consumed by illusion,
I am always seeking control.

And, I am never at rest.
I have a heartbeat and a breath.
I have a center, an ego, a sun.
I have an internal wind.
A hot, emotionally propelled pulse,
An empathic receptacle,
Around which all of my planets revolve,
A living force field of muscle and nerve,
Of flow and feed,
Of need and greed,
Of sighs and atmospheric exchanges,
An inside-outside connection,
Which ranges,
From air to blood,
From breath to flood,
A rhythm of forward momentum and rest,
A give and take between energy and matter.
A continual transformation between the inert,
And, incredible animation,
As long as we both shall live.

Beyond my being,
I am what I do.
I am everything,
I ever have done or will do.
My fate is written in my hands.
My jaw is ready to shout,
Words clamouring and reaching out.
My web is made of soothing paws,
My web is made of clutching claws,
Grasping, grabbing, getting,
Or, generous gifts and soothing petting.
Arms uplifting, push and pull,
Steal from the world or make it full.

The voice I have says many things.
It screams and whispers, sweetly stings.
Questions, answers and explains,
My thoughts and feelings, losses, gains.

Ideas, ideals and speculations,
Instincts wide and intuitions,
Attitudes and rapt attentions,
Interventions and intentions.

I smell, I taste, I touch,
I feel, inside and out,
I seek to know what it’s all about.
I hear vibrations of the world,
I see the light of the universe.
I think about everything,
Upside down,
Inside out,
And, in reverse.

But, what, I ask you, would I be,
Without my fuming, lotus flower,
Floating in the sunlight,
Above my mystic, mental tower,
Anchored in the mud and mire,
In the deepest depths of me,
At the bottom of my sea?
This is my connection,
To the network of the universe,
Glorious gift or rageing curse,
To everything beyond my being,
Beyond my breath, beyond my seeing,
To the nebulous realms that blooms and booms,
Beyond what I know as reality,
To the network of dreams,
And, the whirlwinds of imagination,
And, to the inexplicable, universal consciousness.

All this is not for nothing.
I have not left my star,
And, come this far,
Out of the Netherworld,
Out of the Furthest Reaches,
With all these gifts,
Without a reason.
How could anyone believe,
That I am just an accident?

No, I am a beast with spinning chakras,
With hands to make a difference,
Tossed and lost in the sea of time,
Bending the world to my will,
Full of fight and lust and light,
And, always seeking control,
In a sea of dust and evergreen.