To Be Master of Oneself

[PoeticUniverse]

The title of it - which I forgot to include - is In Passing as in transitioning...not as one having died.

OK.

Interpreted as transitioning to become …

Of time disrobed,
(As in ‘being’ or conscious awareness as a subject only, not an object, it receiving the parade of objects floating in the stream of consciousness in time but no longer all bound up and wound up in the flowing silken robes of time)

sanctioned through her silken door

(Time imprisons.)

unto realms unresonanced which cling no more.

(Free of the immediates of time on its lively stage, since the play can be viewed from afar in the back row of the theater of the mind as detached.)

The least and all of nothing to inherit
(Naught else forthcoming.)

in forever fields of unscriptured merit,
(Within a parentheses of Eternity of natural merit)

not to be but be as all that came before…
(Not novel, just the summation of what was.)

a single fold in its robes
(An insignificance in Time.)

of recursive time
(Time after time.)

unfolded.
(The folds come and go.)

[Tegularius]

It all centers in the idea that in existing one "wears" time the way the body wears clothes. In that sense, the body is a kind of time machine subject to change in entropy.

I appreciate your efforts but I wouldn't bother with it any further. Some of your line interpretations are very good.

Personally, I like this one by Swinburne much better, though less metaphoric...

From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives for ever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.

Then star nor sun shall waken,
Nor any change of light:
Nor sound of waters shaken,
Nor any sound or sight:
Nor wintry leaves nor vernal,
Nor days nor things diurnal;
Only the sleep eternal
In an eternal night.

[PoeticUniverse]

To all:

Through natural evolution or via human-assisted evolution to higher being beyond just the mastering of oneself:

(Some of was inspired from listening to the transhumanism aims of David Pearce.)

The naturalist, with the senses deepened, would be able to absorb with awestruck reverence scenes of overpowering sublimity far beyond the simple prettiness on offer now.

A musician would be able to hear and play music more exhilarating and heartfelt than anyone had ever dreamed of.

The celestial music of the spheres heard by the mystics would become as a child’s toy flute in comparison to this grand and ultimate symphony.

The sensualist would discover that what had passed for deep and passionate sex had been merely a pleasant prelude. Erotic pleasure of an intensity that flesh had never known would become enjoyable without guilt, even by thought alone.

A creator or patron of the visual arts would be able to behold representative vision in a holographic reality of indescribable glory and completeness.

Scientists would be able to apply a googolplex of neurons to their thought experiments, or by using AI, rivaling Einstein’s fortunate “ah-ha” moments, all of the time, to reveal much of what was unknown between heaven and Earth.

Arguments by people insisting on their own selfish ways would melt into a new sense of increased reasoning, just as bad and aversive emotions forced upon us involuntarily would be greatly lessened by new and safer medical miracles.

Wars would become much reduced, and humanity at large could finally progress beyond its everyday suffering.

People would actually remember their car keys and glasses that had often and usually piled up at the vanishing point of the ‘lost and found’, which is at the end of the converging railroad tracks.

Of course, throughout the ages there had always been those rare and mystical moments as described above, for some enlightened and peaceful souls or those in love, but they were but fleeting glimpses of a rare light that lit their minds for a while as a flickering candle, when all one’s thoughts perfectly conjuncted, but then, as usual, soon dispersed, scattering into the oblivion of forgotten dreams.

[PoeticUniverse]

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