In the cathedral of my thoughts, words rise like incense smoke towards the vaults of the unknown

In the cathedral of my thoughts, words rise like incense smoke towards the vaults of the unknown, And I, a pilgrim through the labyrinth of my own consciousness, seek to catch moonbeams in a net, to weave from them the mantle of the ineffable. Ancestral voices resound from the depths, speaking of art that conquers time and space, I let myself be carried by the wave of verses, like an angel's feather in the divine wind, floating beyond the boundaries of nature. I am no longer myself, but the cosmic eye that sees, the universal ear that hears, the eternal heart that feels, The veil of Maya melts away, worldly tales scatter in the wind, leaving only the pure state, the sacred essence of living. I read poetry and become poetry, the analytical mind melts like candle wax before the divine flame, Only I and the primordial Word remain, in a cosmic dance, in a mystical communion with hidden meanings. I am passive and awake, like a holy lake reflecting the stars, yet ready to receive divine revelation, I listen to the echoes of words in the caves of my soul, feeling their vibration in every atom of my being. I wait with humility for the poem to find me, to inhabit me, to become my temple and altar, I am a seeker of supreme truth who has abandoned his ego at the gates of poetic paradise. I open like a chakra to the touch of cosmic energy, receiving epiphanies and ecstasies as celestial gifts, In this openness, the silence in words finds its echo in the eternal silence deep within my being. I am "I am," my divine essence, beyond the veil of illusion, beyond ephemeral masks and roles, Words are merely sacred mantras, keys that unlock the gates of perception in the sanctuary of the reader's heart. And thus, in the uninterrupted flow of divine consciousness, poetry and poet merge into the primordial One, And the melancholic magic of existence is born from the cosmic dance between sound and silence, between form and void.