He had let me know time after time that he was a thinking man, a man of intellect and wit. Yet one unintended hungry look into my eyes and he betrayed each of his words he had carefully spoken to me. I knew it in that instant. He was a viscerally driven man. And one day, he would possess me.
Hear the words of a hater and listen to the thorns. Yet, move up-close and experience the fragrance of a rose. I am Mike Bhangu.
This idea of a life-long mortgage doesn’t make sense. Why? Well, my life is worth more than half an acre with a structure on it. Without hesitation, I’m willing to give a decade. Perhaps then, enough youth with remain to experience the one life and the one world.
Perhaps, I’ve lost my senses. Maybe, I tripped and bumped my head against the ivory tower and knocked myself unconscious. Or perhaps, this is the nuance of the infamous. Or maybe, this is the plight of the good-hearted.
On this particular page of tomorrow’s history, ideal conditions only half be, and sadly, I’ll never see the places my dreams see. My mortal deficiencies prevent me from sitting with Guru Gobind’s Warrior-Poets and Plato’s Philosopher-Kings. Nothing is gained by wanting social change. In today’s day and age, against the grain, the trolls of suffering and pain become friends and enemies. But what else am I to do? It’s the furthermost purpose. Besides, I’m forever built like this. It’s in my cultural genetics—genes designed behind a veil of ignorance and given by the Khalsa’s consciousness. One ally and it’s the Universe. Check the history, an anomaly. Starry-eyed and standing. I ask—is anyone else with eyes starry?
I’ve searched high and low for the remedy to enter me. I’ve searched high and low for the right frequency to be with me. I searched high to light my mind and energy. I searched low to know the dark in me. All this I did for harmony. All this I did for the immortal me. All this I did and found I have stardust in my shoes, yellow in New Orleans’ blues, water on the moon, and inside me, the primal celestial tune.
If born amongst diamonds, a person will translate and shine. If born orbiting, a person will translate and rise. If born in the air, a person will translate and fly. But born to the artificial hardships of the 21st century and the upside-down popular beliefs, a person is simply passing time before they die. The temperament of the human creature is to become and to befall the environments around her or him. This is a truth no woman or man can outrun. Can someone please tell those who rule the manmade world? The human has the potential of a demi-god.
Love God and love all God’s creations. If you’re lucky, The Source will send The Spirit. Sat Guru truthfully teaches and can activate The Word within. The Word’s resonance allows the “I” to experience the absolute reality. Through the mind of a mystic, union with The Great Architect can be achieved. A permanent love, in the truest sense, can soak through to every gene and every inch of a person’s being. Salvation can be yours, and the first step is to be.
Like a snowflake that never melts—like a tornado that doesn’t swirl—like a lightning bolt fashioned in the workshop of an angel—the soul is more. The true “I” is built as a demi-god.