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You’ve stood underneath these arches before,

what feels like a distant memory—

maybe of home,

is slowly starting to come back to you.

You’ve stood between these two trees—

the precipice of a secret garden,

that’s kept locked and only opened with the key of life after death.

But not as you might literally imagine.

This is a key called resurrection—

to be born again

to commence again

to reawaken to your own magnificence—

to reawaken to a finite knowing

that you are the clue

you are the cue

the pointer

the compass

the one and only direction to Armageddon

and then resurrected into Heaven.

Realise the Golden Gates

are not limited to time and space,

yet paradoxically,


and contrarily,

coexist within you

along with galaxies of infinite Dreamtime.

Realise that within your waking reality

the pillars of ancient wisdom

are but a shift in your consciousness,

a change in your perspective.

Realise that Hell and Limbo are a feeling—

a pang in your gut,

telling to you listen

to your inner compass called resistance.

Realise that Eden exists

in a type of thinking

and that you are made in the likeness

and reflection of an almighty central Sun,

which is only perceived through being blinded

by absolute darkness

by infinite nothingness

and divine surrender.

May you wake up

and reign supreme over your existence,

you light of the world you beast of love,

with your golden heart

may you awaken

to who you really are.

For you have stood underneath these arches before,

and here you are again

back at the very beginning

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