The Light Within For Rahul Gaur

The Light Within

I fixate on time constantly

When i hear the wail of a diesel horn
or smell fresh mown grass

or look out at the inland sea i hear the sound
and i’m transported to the stored light of another time

each magnifying the other more deeply every time.

We build our lives on the memories
of the life we live

and the lives we live are built on
moments we have lived.

We live within the memories of
all there is … and all that came before

We are the instant and the infinite past and
everything between the vast vista of ever returning light.


My thought incentive is to
stretch time, to live within the moment

or as someone said of Love;
‘’Within the within within.’’

The world revolving then revolving within the
revolving … deeper movement into the

allusion of stasis between where
more awareness lies waiting for me to see

into the worls and sworls of the wood within the wood
i’m working with, between the spaces of the

fingers on my hand the swirls of my finger pads and
deeper still between the tiny beads of

salty brine into the plasma of the deep
inside, the sea within the

space between the blades of grass
where the fluoride and chlorophyl lies hidden

where tiny moisture droplets flood the subtle link between.

It’s all memory based from the
DNA twisting its way into our being

the mechanics of our lungs, the molecules of our
wakening selves … how could we breathe without

the breath that came before and before that?

Each breath remembers the heart beat
remembers the air within.

It’s all memory.

The planets revolve and
what’s beneath remembers what it knows

each experience resting upon the next.

A kaleidoscope of colors turning
twisting patterns and forms of light

creating new patterns and forms
from what came before connected

bleeding outward curling back to know
each moment of light filled memory.

The homes we live in
filled with memory of angles and

fittings and support from the dawn of creation;
cave man’s fire the furnace and the stove

memories from the dawn of time.
The modern stove a memory of the first fire given
to and to and to and

round and around the blocks are building
no different than walls or bridges or the spiral helix

past memories linking us all.

We are immersed in memory, our lives emit memory from
the light that surrounds us.


Pulls the memory from all things.


Is the road that memory drives on spilling outward
like a ripe orange.


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