I don’t have enough space in my heart… divine implosion cannot stay longer… on me

inside my self : eternity, inner life does not exist anymore, just Him. Just Him, and the silence. Silence only. Before everything. After everything.

Perfection.

Purity.

Unity.

My tears…
My re-cognition.
Gratitude is not a word, it’s a trial. No terms. No grammar, except his verbs. No language. Except his totality. Holiness.

My extinction. My perennity. My greatness. My eternity. Soul & infinity.

אין סוף
Endless

“I am one with the stars”.

One.

One.

One.

He has no name we may pronounce. No shape – no delimitation neither corps we might annonce.

No attributes. No epithets. No quality. No substance, no analogy.

No measure.
No emotions.
No needs, no contingency.

The absolute necessity or TO BE.

« I am who I am »

Esse.

Esse.

Esse.

He’s not a king. Even not the King of the kings.

No kingdom in heaven we could describe through tongue.

Armless, Adam…

Handless

Poor.

His Name, only his Name.
Gift, capacity, intelligence, binah, volition, own; liberty. We are. Noble. Creation.

The world is new.
“Nobody between Moses and Moses…”

The earth was born.

Maintained.

L’aoriste.

Le temps du verbe ou les modalités d’action ? Passé indéterminé, prolongement au présent. Rien ne prendra fin ?

Tell me about it.
Would you like to know?
I must know, now!
No…
סְ

אֶסְתֵּר
Appelez-moi Esthète