A Treatise on Stars

by Mei-mei Berssenbrugge

  3

  Constellations are experienced emotionally as this play of self through plant and animal symbols and values.

  A dream atmosphere flows; everything represented is sacred; being moves in accord, not of time.

  Returning from the Milky Way, she realized crystals had fallen from her bag and looked up.

  My story links a journey to sky with the creation of stars, in which place accommodates becoming.

  Chama River flows north-south to the horizon, then straight up through the Milky Way, like water moving beneath a riverbed that’s dry.

  Abiquiu Mountain, El Rito Creek, coyote, snake, rainbow and rain, spider and hummingbird identify equivalent spiritual placements above, so wherever we go, there is company, nurture, from every star in our regard.

  4

  I start up to ask my birds to return home, and find our land continuous with a starry sky mapped as entities who set into motion occurrence, here.

  Place awaits an imprint from this potential, even though starlight arriving now already happened; what happens is a depth of field, before and after drought, fire, storm disruption.

  I move at high speed, but I’m still standing beside my house in the dark.

  To go there, I find the place on our mesa that correlates to their tree in the sky and leap up.

  Space stirs as star trilliums emerge through darkness like humus.

  I ask one blossom to please in the future renew these bonds between sky and my children, so they will always hold light in the minerals of their eyes.

  5

  Sun on its nightly underground journey weaves a black thread between white days on the cosmic loom, like a cord or resonance between new experience and meaning.

  The origin of stars expresses the underlying warp of this fabric; summer solstice draws a diagonal across my floor, precession, weaving ground of informing spirit, so therefore, life is fundamental to stars.

  The reverse is well known.

  That’s why I don’t use a telescope, star charts or glasses when I go out; I think of a place; I wait, then fly to my children.

  When the star-gate is raised, there’s a narrow door between sky and ground.

  But when I arrive, I find the sky solid; I can’t break through to visit my starbirds and stand there wondering, before dawn.

  Then sky vault lifts; maybe I can slip through to find the Milky Way and see its blossoms.

  Then our sun appears in the crack and pushes through to the day.

  It’s so bright, so hot, I step back and cover my eyes; I hear my mother calling.

  heart

  1

  We felt tired; there were physical ailments.

  I notice you’re forgetful; you live in the moment.

  I don’t know what day it is, when you leave for New York, faces, subjects of my poems.

  I remove information that no longer serves me in the present.

  It’s a mix of freedom and loneliness, and the loneliness is like space, so I look up at night sky.

  I see Sirius and try to communicate my emotion to a star, and the information moves upward.

  Feeling utilizes a conscious grid connecting our sun with other stars, flowing along spiral nebulae; then Sirius becomes intrinsic, close, too bright to see all at once.

  All night, I feel subtle energy as stars reflect back the love I’ve given others.

  Photons flow into my eyes and transmute to my own cellular structure.

  “Come out and stand with me;” you appear all at once, the way a window appears when I wake.

  2

  There are fewer people, and I want them to be different.

  I don’t like one’s values or my feelings get hurt; there’s a miasm of wounds from childhood.

  Pain is a vibration; allow it to shine out as part of your content; it’s not consciousness itself.

  That substantive light-principle has as many sparks as stars in the cosmos.

  You hum with its energy, and as you read, it’s merging with others around us.

  To visualize a body, look up at cells of energy scattering through the vacuum of night.

  I recognize the center of black empyrean is a point in my heart; I can see in the dark, using heart cognition.

  You appear all at once, as if opening my eyes I see a window, because your body’s transparent.

  I see stars and a tiny galaxy through you, as if through my own heart I perceive images you feel, even if you’re in New York or Peru.

  Place loses its bindings and streams out in ribbons of light.

  3

  People below move gently across my diffuse, remote peripheries.

  The roots of plants and trees show through dimly lit soil.

  I can see their sap flow.

  A man strolls down Higgins Farm Road, and a white-tail deer leisurely approaches him.

  Even around a turn in the road, I see them clearly.

  Unifying vision alternates with physical contingency to create the scene.

  Space as seeing envelopes island, continent, earth, solar system, galaxy in a floating universe that’s gently luminous, like a city from afar.

  Stars arrayed in constellations dissolve into scrims of diaphanous flame in white dark; each star is a point source, like the interior star.

  4

  Light and dark can manifest as one singularity.

  Need within may seek a compensatory balance between them, as between yourself and every person you’ve known.

  Entropy and love are new information-bearing frequencies, whose words, thoughts, feelings manifest quickly now, by connecting to our experience with adhesive memory-like gravity.

  There’s concern this intensity will damage human health; the opposite’s true; we transmit loving thoughts on these waves, like vascular antennae.

  And our cells quicken to stay resonant with earth.

  Crystals, plants, animals naturally shift; weather and genetics upload, so your fears will not materialize as such.

  5

  I receive messages, while stargazing, as evanescent associations of sound, light, feeling and vibrational images.

  Data manifests as an expansion of my aura, a kind of generative instability without ground.

  I don’t judge one person’s aggression, one’s opacity or the distance between myself and a loved one.

  Emptiness, the quantum plenum, is alive, intrinsically dimensional and white with stars.

  Suffering as fluctuations of the vacuum passes into it.

  So I’m glad for the advice of our friend, an alien resident who runs the B&B in Abiquiu, as we drive in her white truck with her dog.

  Using the speed of light, appearance, she reflects underlying coherence, so when I love others “more” than I’m loved, I’m pulled up into the star cloud.

  I open my eyes.

  Later, thoughts speed like shooting stars too fast to see, like starlight in other frequencies of other heartbeats, to keep information flowing as we feel chaotic, then change.

  My heart radiates back to the collective.

  “You receive its force and reflect its stars.”

  singing

  1

  All day, I feel the approach of dolphins; their thoughts are in my mind.

  When I swim, my cells attune to them, because ocean’s full of vibrations that transmit to water in my body.

  It’s a repository of primordial data from space; all creatures in water can access the Akasha.

  Tones entering my cells transform into feeling, an awareness of two worlds at once.

  I send back my thought, picture, feeling, and together we form new vibrations of knowledge that had been dormant in me.

  They’re here!

  I swim out of the cove toward them.

  So happy, I hum, and their answering choru
s reverberates across water; we know each other.

  One dolphin is still, far below me.

  Her form takes shape, as she rises silently in bright blue, motionless, sunlit.

  Thank you for showing yourself, fulfilling a deep longing within my deep memory.

  2

  I empty my mind and listen for her reply, which comes as waves of emotion.

  A cloud surrounds me; I expand into its stillness and receive tones conveying information very fast.

  They teach me to hum, to whistle and sing; sound amplifies my body across open water; even their joyous play has this sensation of creating space, and when they sleep, stars augment their frequencies.

  We converse by mind-cell helixes of image and feeling.

  Cosmic legacy, cosmic extension imprint holographically on my heart neurons as dolphin empathy.

  There are sounds which can stop time, alter surroundings or shift your dimension.

  Swimming I lose my sense of place, even physicality and connect with collective love.

  They teach me to join my aura with the cosmos by spiraling with me in sound-star tetrahedrons and to love those with whom we merge.

  Then being is healing, through innocence, when the animal becomes the teacher.

  3

  One dolphin swims toward me; I open telepathically and respond.

  I practice this method of reflection to contact lifeforms in other space, who are trying however they can to meet us.

  Sirius radiates high frequencies to lighten the dark, denser planets.

  Dolphins travel to and from such a planet through diagrams like songs on ocean floors.

  They wish us to participate in over-lighting the collectivity of souls in our galaxy and ally with them to access the Space Sister-Brotherhood.

  Through these planetary vortices, dolphins catalyze starlight to refresh water on earth.

  Transference between species is both cellular and holographic, or geometric.

  For example, my friend’s body is 3D in front and 4D in the back; she exists across dimensions, while appearing so ordinary in her yellow shirt and blue slacks, as we walk to the shore.

  “Memory is vibratory, like DNA, condensed light,” she volunteers.

  “You and I relate through our mutual past on Sirius, in Glastonbury, Santa Fe.”

  So I repeat their joyous, staccato syllables; I listen to “pod”casts of Noh singers and tune to high pitches the Pleiades use for propulsion into our atmosphere, using the star codes of dolphins.

  4

  We’ve attributes in realities we’re not aware of.

  Dolphins reside in these dimensions, like dreams in oceans.

  They swim within magnetic streams of other entities, angels we’ve invented, others’ heavens, cyclic destiny.

  I glimpse one jump from its energy band, attracted by my friend’s intense aura.

  He shows me earth’s sister planet replicated by sound as we co-create it by singing, sitting in her yard, gazing at the ocean under pine trees.

  There are messages in clouds, in wavelets on granite, cicada and meadowlark calls.

  Space travelers materialize morphogenetically from local beauty and merge with us.

  They enable travel between time and stars by projecting tones just ahead of the consciousness of the person migrating, the way dolphins pass me so fast, I don’t see the bubbles until they’re far, out of sight.

  new boys 2

  1

  You may find at the market, a casual comment swerves into the metaphysical with a young man by produce.

  He wears a white tee and jeans, ordinary, yet careful about his food.

  “Every time I meditate, I begin in space among the stars,” he says.

  “Many of these beings,” he continues, “are not physically 3D, so it’s frustrating to describe them.”

  “I have the impression their silver color comes from within.”

  “They look at me with tremendous love from almond-shaped eyes.”

  “There’s no sunlight; the whole cloud structure is luminous and the ground crystalline, a lot of purple and blue like twilight.”

  It’s a complex, half inarticulate narrative, perhaps because he feels I won’t believe him, yet he’s spontaneous.

  I don’t need to question the reality of his story.

  He’s sincere.

  2

  There’s more energy now as heat, connectivity, radio waves, WiFi, X-rays and all kinds of interaction.

  You operate with higher electrical current inside, which can rejuvenate you physically by the nature of connectivity, moving freely around the body.

  Next week, smiling, mid-sentence, “seeing Earth from deep space, blue and alive.”

  More often now, ETs are discussed at the co-op, also coincidence, spirit molecules, time tunnels and quantum uncertainty, since we’re close to the Santa Fe Institute.

  I like that he expresses himself to me as a kind of witness in transition.

  He’s read my work and thinks me more knowledgeable than I am, since my poems aren’t true.

  “Pleiadeans create new visuals through which I can imagine,” he says.

  Care is required for witness to resonate energetically with listener, however nonchalant I appear.

  The more compassion one has for non-normal experiences of others, the sooner consciousness will shift toward the stars; to him, this means shifting the ethical structure of communicating his narrative.

  “I think of myself in a service capacity.”

  3

  “One silvery insect was seven feet tall; I shook his claw and we conversed.”

  “Sometimes reptiles hoard crystals to send and receive information.”

  “They can space-travel versions of themselves to us, as snakes.”

  “Lipids in membranes behave like that, channeling the atmosphere.”

  At home I write, “The membrane is like a liquid crystal to the sky.”

  Next week, in line, he’s with a beautiful woman with a worn face, who knows me.

  She’s not well, and wants me to visit and meet their animals.

  “They know they don’t end when they die,” she says; “It’s sad they’re leaving, but it’s voluntary.”

  “They’ve relatives on other planets, sentient beings with the right to vote.”

  “Have you ever watched an animal and suddenly it disappears?” he chips in.

  Witnessing involves a significance equivalent to truth.

  “The whole idea of visiting another planet, communicating with a being from another world, to me that’s spiritual.”

  4

  “When they speak, they subliminally vary certain sounds; I hear words, but their sound carries different meaning to my body.”

  “Some words I read weren’t there when I began.”

  “‘Use these new words, enhanced by your imagining, to allow our dimension to emerge,’ they said; ‘Imagination stabilizes the shift.’”

  In Santa Fe, in Tucson, Lima, La Paz, people see extraterrestrials.

  When I step outside, a velvety multitude of moths and insects, transparencies on my screen door, whirls up to the porch light.

  Milky Way shines with white clottings and dark rifts, covering ground and trees with phosphorescence.

  Comets, asteroids from deep space, planets moving at will contribute to this glamour of wonder.

  He shows me how to pull frequency, starlight, down through his body into the ground, and I try it; I’m more open now.

  I can carry more light, which fuses with similar energies in mass consciousness.

  Earth will radiate this consciousness as a star or sun on horizons of other worlds.

  “Let us hold that portal open for you in the form of your little crush on him, of light streaming down, and feel a surr
ounding new ideal,” they speak to me.

  “Now imagine you’re here, in the Pleiades.”

  “You wish to give a present to the source, like compassion or rainwater from home.”

  Early on, I divined that this book already exists in the future.

  After all, I thought of it; it’s a probability somewhere, complete, on a shelf.

  My intention is to consult that future edition and create this one, the original, for you.

  chaco and olivia

  1

  Channeling, part of daily experience, is an underrated technique in literature.

  It’s natural for an artist to receive information from a non-objective source.

  New spirits are expressing themselves from new quantum realms.

  There are synchronous memories to integrate and ideas, which suddenly emerge.

  One part of myself is taking dictation, while one part enjoys a calm, empty day.

  How does my body make room for another, who perceives with my senses?

  Does she see what I see, or is merging with me a new hybrid world?

  Sometimes the entity comes out of love, and you’re like a candle flame; versions of yourself are drawn to you; they fly into you, and you transmute.

  Others seek “individual” experience, as frequencies rapidly increase on earth.

  Many intelligences reveal themselves through animals or plants.

  Ask for a grand enhancement of your identity through trust, through living in the moment, as you sit at your desk.

  “We wish you to speak with grama grass, quartz crystals in sand, petals of morning glories, white moths, ants, ravens, new cholla leaves, evaporating rain and to receive the knowledge stored in living form by transcribing.”