From somewhere deep
there is something beyond meaning and purpose.
From within these depths emerge a feeling, a desire, an emotion.
When the tangible and the intangible unite
emotion empties both meaning and purpose into
wholeness.
In this wholeness we return again
to the depths of something beyond purpose and
meaning.
Meaning and purpose,
the tangible and the intangible,
reflect upon each other.
The design of which is the relationship between them.
* * *
From the depths, where silence stirs,
A pulse beyond our fleeting words,
Beyond the grasp of purpose' reach,
A presence waits, a voice, a breach.
Emerging from the shadows deep,
A longing stirs, a wish to keep
The essence of both form and flame,
Where meaning fades and leaves no name.
Emotion rises, pure, unbound,
It fills the air without a sound,
When tangible and dream unite,
They shed the weight of wrong and right.
In wholeness now, we fall and rise,
Beyond the measure of our eyes,
To return, unmade, untold,
Where purpose sleeps, and meaning folds.
The dance of things - of here and there
Is felt, though we cannot declare,
The way they turn, the way they meet,
Reflecting each, in pulse, in beat.
And in this flow, we come to see,
The design lies in their harmony.
A thread between the dark and light,
Where both are born, where both take flight.
* * *
Long ago, in a realm far beyond the limits of time and space, there was a place that could not be seen or touched - where meaning and purpose did not yet exist. It was an ancient, endless ocean that stretched far beyond the horizons of thought, a place that was beyond understanding. Here, in the deep waters of this unknown expanse, something stirred. It was neither a thought nor a feeling, but something beyond them -something pure, a force that moved within the very heart of the deep.
From this great mystery, something began to take shape. It was a desire - a longing - quiet at first, like the soft murmur of waves lapping against the shore. It had no name, yet it was undeniable, a stirring that came from the very core of the depths. This desire carried with it a feeling, a pulse that was both tender and powerful. It was a force that began to bring the intangible closer to the tangible, as though the invisible threads that held the universe together were weaving something new.
As these threads wove together, emotion blossomed, and within it - within the feeling that swelled like a tide - meaning and purpose began to emerge. In this moment of union, something remarkable happened. The boundaries between what was real and what was imagined, between the seen and the unseen, faded away. Meaning no longer stood alone. Purpose no longer existed in isolation. They were not separate forces but intertwined, dancing with one another in a delicate harmony. And in this union, they gave birth to something greater: wholeness.
This wholeness was not static or fixed—it was fluid, alive, breathing in the currents of the deep.
In wholeness, there was a return to the depths, a quiet surrender back to that mysterious realm beyond meaning and purpose. And yet, even in the return, something had shifted. The depths were no longer the same as they had been before. They had been touched, altered, by the dance of emotion, meaning, and purpose.
Now, the depths and the surface of the world reflected one another. The tangible and the intangible—like two mirrors facing each other—looked into one another’s eyes. And in that gaze, they understood the most sacred truth: that their relationship was the design of all things. It was in their connection that the world was made whole, and in that union, the endless dance of life continued, always returning to the depths and emerging once more, ever-renewing.
And so, the cycle went on—forever.
* * *
In a forgotten valley, untouched by time, there was a village that lived at the edge of the world. Its people were simple, their lives bound by the rhythm of nature’s cycle: the rising sun, the passing seasons, and the shifting of the stars. They believed in the dance of things—that the essence of life was not in words or laws, but in the flow between moments, in the silence that lay beneath all things.
No one understood the silence better than Lira. She was a young woman with dark eyes that seemed to see beyond the tangible world, into a space where meanings folded like the shadows of a dream. People said she could hear things that others couldn’t—voices not spoken, emotions not felt, a pulse that beat just beneath the surface of their lives. She never explained it, for words could never capture the depths of what she knew. She simply moved through the world with a quiet grace, like a breeze that swirled through the trees, touching everything and nothing all at once.
One evening, as twilight bled into the sky, Lira wandered beyond the village’s borders, toward the forest that whispered of ancient things. The air was thick with the scent of moss and earth, and a cool wind tugged at her hair. As she walked, her feet brushed against the undergrowth, but there was no sound—no rustling, no crackling of leaves. The forest was still, as though holding its breath.
There, deep in the heart of the woods, she reached a clearing where the air seemed to shimmer. The trees, towering and old, stood in a circle, their branches entwined, as though they too were caught in a dance. At the center of the clearing, a pool of water reflected the sky, but the reflection was not quite right. The stars above did not align with the stars below; the image in the water was a blur, a pulse of light and dark, a harmony that defied the rules of time and space.
Lira stepped closer, her heartbeat quickening. She knew this place, though she had never been here before. She had felt its pull, its quiet invitation, in the moments when the world seemed to fade, when the rhythm of life slowed to a stillness that stretched beyond thought.
And then, from the depths of the pool, a voice stirred. Not a voice made of sound, but one that filled her mind, a thought, a feeling, a presence. It whispered in the language of the unseen, the space where words could not tread.
Do you understand?
The question was not for her ears, but for the pulse in her chest, the beating of something ancient and beyond knowing. She closed her eyes, and the feeling of the world shifted. She no longer saw with her eyes. She saw with something deeper—something older. She saw the threads of existence, interwoven, spinning in their dance.
You have always known, the voice continued, the design lies in their harmony, in the thread between the dark and the light.
And as the words washed over her, Lira understood. It was not the forest, nor the sky, nor the stars in the water that she had been seeking. It was the pulse that connected them all—the unseen thread that held everything together, the rhythm that transcended purpose, beyond reason, beyond right and wrong.
She felt herself fall into the flow of it, her body both present and absent, her mind caught between form and flame. In that moment, time ceased to matter. She was both a part of the dance and the dance itself. She was not Lira the girl from the village. She was the silence between thoughts, the pulse between heartbeats, the place where meaning folded into itself.
And when she opened her eyes again, the world was as it had always been, yet different. The trees whispered with the language of things unsaid. The stars above sparkled in patterns known only to the night. And she, a part of the dance, moved with the flow of all things, unmade, untold.
She had returned—neither the same nor apart—where purpose sleeps and meaning folds.
* * *
Bridging the gap between divine omniscience
and mortal awareness.
Find your truth. Know your mind. Follow your heart. Love eternal will not be denied. Discernment is an integral part of self-mastery. You may share this post on a non-commercial basis, the author and URL to be included. Please note … posts are continually being edited. All rights reserved. Copyright © 2025 C.G. Garant.
