The hand of God

 There is one will and one power in the universe. This is that of God. One hand in all things. One hand as all things. One movement, one power. This power is really infinity. Infinity is all things, and all things are infinity. This is infinity. At all times, this is infinity. Infinite space and infinite being. What we are, is this. What everything is, is this. There is not a thing, or a place that is not this. No where outside, no where do go inside. Nothing else but this. It holds itself together by what? Is it knowable? Is it not knowable? Can we ask any questions about it? Perhaps all we can do is recognize it. I know it does not belong to anything. It is perfectly contained in itself, a shape with what shape? Who can say? It is simply what is real and what is true. It appears that it can come and go, yet when it is apparent, it seems clear that it is always apparent, for it is how things are underneath all things. The hand that is moving even when it is not seen. The hand behind all movements that appear contrary to one another. Living swirling mist that is revealed as the nature of all form. I truly do not know if it can be known, or that if it sufficiently is an it. It seems to me that it is the sum total of everything that is equally nothing. The non-difference between existence and non-existence. Both of these seem to be limited conditioned perspectives, while if what we may call this truth is, is beyond and before conditioned. Completely beyond and, or, completely before all beginnings. Yet it cannot be viewed correctly as being separate from words, or ideas. For everything that is is equally as it as it is. All of this, the highs and the lows are it. There are no stopping points. It is spilling water that fills all gaps. Clinging. Feeling. Being.