Tuesday, December 31, 2013


This is the book published recently, based on the same materials as this blog.

It is $2.99 at amazon.com/kindle-ebooks

and its a good compilation of some of the materials
covered so far, plus some material that is not in
the blog.

I hope this is just the beginning of my re-examining the
Cliff Top Writings, for I know the Spirit of the
Lord is in those pages, just as His Spirit is with me

I am trusting the Lord of Hosts, the one who speaks to us from on high, Jah, the Lord of the Meeting Rivers, the God of Abraham and Isaac, the God of Israel, the God
of Albion and the Americas, our Creator, the One Who Is Creating Us, I trust the One who has led me through
this from the beginning, the one who blessed me
and hence blessed all of us.

                  Holy Father, thank you for your gifts, thank
you for your Grace, and thank you for giving me the 
strength to take a step, and the power to take this

O bless us in the name of the Lord of the Most High,
bless those who have been graced with the strength
to take this journey with us...For I feel I am alone
no longer.
to give me the strength to finish examining and sharing
most of the inspired writings written in that holy place
of power.

It feels like it was written a long time ago, but it is
only thirty years ago.  30 years is  a long time in a person's life, but not so long a time when we realize that Jesus Christ foretold this day 2000 years ago.

He promised to come again and that his Mind and Spirit
would be known by mankind, one more time - so that
we could know the sacred aeon.

O praise  the Name of the Lord!
I praise thee O sacred, immaculate One!

You have given me signs that this shall be.
Even when I doubted constantly, you were
merciful, and revealed yourself
in your glory.

When I could not forgive myself, 
you forgave me.

I praise thee
I praise you, O Lord of hosts,
O gentle Father of the cliffs,
When I deserted myself
You did not desert me:
How can I fail
To sing your praises now?

Saturday, December 21, 2013


    What''s the difference between the church view,
 and the more ancient view ( coming to us now,
 but scarcely digested)
that comes from the earliest gospel...
Here are some quotations  of Christ from 
the ancient texts: 
"I am He who is from the Same
Cleave a piece of wood I am there.
The Kingdom is within you.
Know yourself and you will be known
Know yourself and you will know me
Each person directly apprehends God
Each individual has a mystical duty to know God,
to realize God within oneself
It's each individual's duty...to save his own soul
by forming a mystical union with the One 
Who Is Creating Us.

Here are two more sayings I like from the ancient
                   "Love calls nothing its own."

          "When the Holy Spirit breathes, summer comes."

Modern day church approach:  
Believe on my name 
Have faith.
Imitation of Christ
Follow the commandments
Love your neighbour as yourself
Talk to your priest/minister and he will  intercede
on your behalf with God  I know that's more  a Catholic
notion, but most churches have the same leaning.

The following words are not Cliff-Top writings, but are
phrases taken directly from the Nag Hammadi:

"The world is a corpse-eater.
All things eaten in it dies also."

"Truth is a life-eater. No one nourished
by the Truth will die.
Jesus brought food from this place  (heaven/the Father)

The tree of knowledge killed Adam.

       "But here the tree of knowledge makes men alive."
He who has been anointed posses everything:
Resurrection, the Light, the cross and the Holy Spirit."

The Father gave him this in the bridal chamber
Christ merely accepted the Gift.
The Father was in the Son and the Son was in the Father.
This is the Kingdom of Heaven. So it is with the bread, 
the cup, the oil.   No one will receive imperishability
if he does not first become a Son.

         "No one can see himself in a mirror or in water...
without light.  That is why Baptism is done with light
and water."
         This article is not as coherent as the articles based on the Cliff-Top writings. I am reading the raw material
from various Gospels.
         From the Gospel of Truth, there is this:

Through this, the gospel of the one who is searched for,
which was revealed to those who were made perfect
through the mercies of the Father, the hidden mystery,
Jesus the Christ enlightened those who were in
darkness through oblivion. He enlightened them; he
showed them a way, and the way is the truth which he
taught them..."

            "He was nailed to a tree and he became a
fruit of the knowledge of the Father. It did not,
however, cause destruction because it was eaten,
but to those who ate it, it gave cause to be glad
in the discovery, and he discovered them in himself,
and they discovered him in themselves."
        The underlining is mine. This 'knowing' and 
'being known', becoming a reflection of one
another - the seeker, the Christ.... in the mirrored
Bridal Chamber: the Christ a reflection of the seeker.

        The very IDENTITY of the seeker changes
in the reflection of the Christ.
         It is not me, Joe Smith, following and imitating
the life of Christ. It is me, Joe Smith, becoming
a reflection of the Christ, and becoming one with
the Christ in reflection.

             This person is no longer a Christian,
but a Christ.

             I can hear  screams of, "Blasphemy!"

              But think about it... In the East, when a
person does zazen and much hard work in questioning
and looking within for his real nature, when
he says:    "I get it! Aha!"
                "Between heaven and earth I alone exist!"     
                "I AM Buddha."

                                In the East, he is congratulated
by his fellow monks and friends. He has achieved
"enlightenment"... "satori"
                  This realization is the aim.
                                   In the West, you say, "Aha! I have realized!
                  I AM Christ."

                   In the West, you then would be DOOMED!
But should you be reviled for what really is
a great achievement, and the product of years
of work?

                    This is the very realization I had,
and now we see it is not so strange. It is
the aim. It is true Holy Communion, this reflection
process I spoke of.
                    You are not "doomed."

                     You have merely come home.

Thursday, December 19, 2013


                             I'm happy to announce I have published a
book, entitled:


        The book is a compilation of some of these articles,
together with a new one.
         I hope you enjoy it.  You can find it
at amazon.com/e-books    (at the "kindle store". It costs
            It's my dream to put a huge bell atop
the 150 foot cliff, and have it rung perhaps
 five times a month in order to popularize, 
make more people aware of the discovery
 of the Nag Hammadi Gospels

                Without my blaming anyone in the past,
in the spirit of forgiveness, it is necessary
to create a New Christian Consciousness, by
melding the Gospels included in the Bible
with these earliest ancient Gospels which were
rejected and suppressed by the "Chamber of Commerce Bishops" at the Council of Nicea, 425 A.D.  (325? no)
          The Consciousness that will be arising is
Christ Consciousness, and through us, our hearts
and dreams and meditative Minds, the Anointed One
will arise and return to us.
        I have absolutely no doubt about this.

                 The Gospel of Thomas is a must read.
But there are also: The Gospel of Philip and 
The Gospel of Mary  (all too short, so let's add 
The Thunder, Perfect Mind... a gorgeous poem 
written by the Female Hand of God)

          As I mentioned before, the poem written
on the cliff (at Temple's Gate), "The Song Of Truth"
is fourteen pages long.
          I'll eventually post the whole poem. But here
are a few verses I like this morning.


I have seen you walking
As if there's something that you Lack;
I have seen you walking
Up the block and back.

Where are you really going?
Do you really know?
Don't you know there is One?
There is one Man who knows.

He has seen you walking
With a murmur of delight;
He has seen your hidden loves
He knows the fear you fight.

Perhaps you haven't met Him,
But as far as that streetcar goes
He is standing on the corner
Watching the river flow.

There is nothing that is hidden,
From his hidden sight;
All those fruits that seemed forbidden
All those fruits that taste so ripe

He does not disdain them
All the fruits of life
He has given the Tree to be
Wherein the fruit has life.

He does not know the sin
The elders are familiar with,
But then again He makes the food
These others just serve the dish.

He asks that you eat well
He asks that you find bliss;
But He knows if you forget Him
There is much you will have missed.

And it is a shame to miss Him
As Life turns into death
For while the clock keeps ticking
He gives Eternal Breath.

Were He not liberating,
You could ignore His breath;
But it happens, as He is creating
He is in the midst of Rest.

Our life is a Forgetting
At least it often seems to be;
We always are forgetting
What causes us to be.

                                       (C)1980 by William G. Milne

I know the rhyme scheme is simplistic,
almost too much so...but it has something,
doesn't it! 


Tuesday, December 17, 2013


         A number of Gospels were discovered 
at Nag Hammadi, by the Nile River in Egypt in 1945.
A library had been hidden in a large earthen jar
of pottery. This discovery will change the modern world,
and will certainly change the Christian world.
        When I discovered the Gospel of Thomas in 1970,
and saw its implications, I went into the woods and
built a cabin on a cliff, a place of power. With no
distractions, no electricity, no radio or T.V., no
telephone I started working on the manuscript.

         Many unbelievable things happened to me
as I was focusing on the words of the Gospels.
The northern lights circled directly above that
place, which I now consider sacred.

        As the weeks turned into months and the
months passed, my natural human abilities started
to return to me. There was no road to the place.
There was a goat path off to the side of the cliff
and slightly behind it. The path was
a third of a mile long, winding down steep
rocky hills to a dirt road.
         After living in the hut for some time,
my telepathic abilities returned to me. I knew
if someone was walking on my path long
before anyone arrived to visit me.

Some passages were impenetrable,
at least to me. I was at a loss to finish
an inscrutable sentence, and I sat still
for a time staring at the page. I had
reached an impasse. I had no idea
as to the meaning of an excised
passage that had been destroyed.
The clouds would open, the sun
would shine down between the clouds,
and my hand would start writing again.
        Often I'd be trying to figure out what
the top of the page meant, when my hand was
writing the bottom of the page. I had to
find out what the bottom of the page meant

At such times, passages were written
that there was no way in this world I would
have had the courage to write. And there is
no way I would have thought such thoughts.
Here is one such passage.
Once again, you be the judge.

I shall not send my son again,
To be crucified in the world of men.
Now mankind will be crucified
Upon the Christ.”

         I didn't confront this passage, nor did
I understand what it means. There are
whole parts of the Cliff-Top Writings
I haven't looked at in twenty years.
But now I'm getting older, and I
don't expect to live forever. I want to finish
this task I started as a young man.

The manuscript is here before me.

                         * * *


         "Drink the waters of the fountain
I have dug. and you shall be as I am.
And being what I am, I shall breathe
into you new Breath. I shall be your
Comforter; I will not leave you
comfortless. You shall know Me
through My Word, and you shall not
taste death."

        "I am always with you, nearer
than you think; and when you replace
an Eye for an eye, not in vengeance,
and not in pride, then you may see Me
as I always am, throughout unending
days and nights, I reach to you My
hand; I offer you My Sight."

       "They have killed the Son,
but here I am, the true Heir
of the Garden."
       "The Kingdom has come, but
men know it not."

        "You have asked My Father
for the Son; My Father and I are One.
On the day of harvest the weeds will
appear, which the thief planted. You
too are a Thief, but with my blessing,
for what is yours in Mine. You will
help others to open the door."
         "And now I must leave, if you 
are to see Me. I must leave; so that
when I am gone, I will come to you,
and you will see what you need."

You will see Me and know Me
in your visions and your dreams. 

        When I am gone, I will come to you,
and you will see what you need."

         "I have gone out to the roads and
streets, gutters and alleys and invited
everyone that they might have the last
supper with Me; all are invited; even
you, my friend the thief; make yourself
ready to eat."

* * *

Monday, December 16, 2013


          "Lucky unlucky."  A policeman used this phrase
                                    to describe me, when he
         was sitting outside of my cell, a few days after I had
         shot a man.
                                  We were discussing the strange
          quirks of destiny. How disaster can strike
          in the midst of a picnic on a sunny afternoon,
          and how light can shine and purify and save us
          out of the depths of tragic depravity.
                                  There's no point in being simplistic
           about good and evil. What mortal among us can
           presume to know how the warp  and the woof
           of the weaving goes?  As Shakespeare says,"Nothing
           is good or evil, but thinking makes it so."
                   The only wisdom and good I know
           begins with humility and compassion.
                    "And to get to the point of compassion;
                     We have to take an awful thrashing."
                      As Blind Jimmy says.

                                      My father became sick with M.S, when I was five
years old, and he was told by a highly-reputable clinic
that he'd be dead within a year.
         So he sold his companies and the next thing
I knew I was running along the deserted coral and sands
of the north coast of Jamaica along the shore land
of what is now called Mammee Bay.
         It had no name at all when I first got there.
It was owned by Teddy Pratt, and he'd come home
after dark one evening to step on the body of
his favourite son. His wife bumped her foot on his head
which was thirty feet away in the dark.
         Alma was never the same after that and
neither was Teddy. Teddy stared shooting trespassers
he found on his lands. If someone came to steal
coconuts from his plantation, Teddy shot that man
out of the trees. 
         He did this many times, and since his
family had been given a huge tract of the north coast
by  Charles I of England, he had extensive
         So this wasn't so good a deal for
a lot of the Jamaican people, I suppose,
but it ended up leaving me with a long empty
coastline to explore every day.
          My school started at seven A.M., when
my mother handed me my exercise books. 
And school was out by seven-thirty A.M., then I'd
go running off down the beach, or, more likely,
 across the sharp coral extending off to the West
towards Drax Hall  and St Ann's Bay.
           I'm told that in Tibet, messengers are trained
to do night running - a runner runs in such a way
that he never really looks at the ground, he knows
unconsciously where every rock is, so he just
runs and doesn't look.
          I learned to do this at the age of six. I'd
run across miles of sharp coral at the ocean's edge.
I remember looking down but not really focusing.
I imagine many children can do this and they
don't  know it's any kind of training.
                   Jamaica wasn't very developed way back 
then in the mid 1950's, so Teddy wasn't really 
keeping that many people away... The Jamaican
people are irrepressible, anyway...so no one
person is going to keep everyone away from
miles of coastline. No, and no one was keeping
me away, either!
          This  is how history works.... good
and evil work together, and weave a tapestry,
a 'weaveworld' *(as in the book) 
 of endless colours and circumstance...
         Certain people and facts emerge out
of this reality woven by many threads of
silver and gold divine illumination. And dark green,
and shadow, and black night weave the tapestry
also, and the red-eyed rolling calf the
Jamaican's talk about... a red eyed
 conscious bull that visits their properties
late at night, a beast that means evil and ill
to the living.... all of these build the tapestry.
        If I hadn't spent those six years more
or less by myself staring into the sea
pools and running without conscious
thought across the razor sharp points of
the two feet high  coral...
        If I hadn't met the Rastamen at
five A.M.  at that point along the beach
where they launched their dug-out canoes
to go fishing across the tides...
        If I hadn't constantly fed the John
Crows over on the next property
called the "salt flats" and if these
vultures hadn't followed me hopping
down the beach along before the dawn...
The Rastaman never would have taken an
interest in me.
          If my heart and soul had not been 
hollowed out by that constant solitude,
as I was always alone in my mind,
and almost always alone by the sea...
and if I hadn't been constantly
 blessed by the dawn...if I hadn't been 
seared within by an endless exposure 
in solitude in the sun and the sea, 
I never could have worked
on the Gospels of the Nag Hammadi,
without that hollowing out -
without becoming an empty vessel.
I never could have confronted these
ancient Gospels newly discovered by
the shores of the upper Nile.

        Actually. if I hadn't turned into
something, of a sociopath... if
it hadn't become impossible for me
to work a normal job... if all of this hadn't
happened, I never could have undertaken
this endeavour. 
          I thought I was writing a New 
Testament of the Lord of Hosts.
 I'm not sure, to this day,
 that I was not...
         How many people
would even begin to entertain such
a thought? 

         This is the point I am making.
I see the hand of destiny in this.
 Only a child who was raised
the way I was...by a wealthy family, and
lifted out of the north, and dipped deeply
 in a southern sea, by an island where
people really do think in Biblical terms...
            And if the gospels hadn't been
discovered just as I was maturing in the
study of literature, religion and law...
none of this would have happened.
            People say, "Aw, it's all
co-incidence."  But I don't believe
this. I see the hand of destiny in this,
and destiny is woven from a Conscious
Source.  I don't think I'm that special.
I think the hand of fate is in all our lives.
We just don't tend to live long enough to see
the pattern.

         If I hadn't been rendered incapable
of working a normal job, if in my psyche
I hadn't become such a solitary...
          If I had already had the tendency
to become the hermit that I am today,
I never would have built a hut on a cliff
or lived in it long enough.... to concentrate
on the discovered library and the
resulting manuscript. 
             It wasn't me who had written 
the origins of the manuscript
...after all, the discovered
materials  were  Gospels. But some of
the passages were jagged and unreadable,
and it was in my attempts decipher the abstruse
meanings and make the words flow, that
the miraculous sometimes occurred, and
as I was in a trance state of total
concentration I can't comment on exactly
what happened, but I can give examples
of the results.
           One example is the verse marked **

           I had to be reminded of this fact 
repeatedly: "It's not about you!"

          What I am trying to say is: "No one's 
above and no one's below."
         We are all made out of the many threads 
of the tapestry that is being woven, not by
we mortals, but maybe it is the
job of the bodhisattvas and saints 
whose united consciousness surrounds us, like a
further atmosphere around the globe. (Maybe
this is the beginning of the "noosphere" which Teilhard
de Chardin wrote about in "The Phenomenon of Man")

          These are the the ones who can read the Akashic
Record, (the ones we used to call the Fates who 
were imagined to weave the threads
of human destiny) The communal Consciousness....  of the saints and bodhisattvas somehow exists, and it seems
we can interact with them, they will answer us and give
us their support... these beings all of whom are one with
 the Lord of Hosts, the Lord of the Meeting Rivers, 
the Lord of Israel, of the Americas, of Albion
of India and Palestine.... the Lord who
is the Tao, and the Tao out of whom
the Buddha arises... the Lord the Sufis
know... the One Who Is Creating Us 
Who has more names than any of us can recite
or remember....JAH! The Lord of Love, man,
and the Lord of destruction and darkness -
out of which love is born.
        The Lord who weaves human destiny
with shining threads of divinity and dark earthy
threads of the equally divine. The Lord of
light and darkness, the Great One
who speaks to us out of the vortex of
the swirling, weaving stormclouds of the
skies, with an Eye of Light piercing down
into the thrashing waters.
       This is the Holy One who is writing
this.The One who guides
the clouds, who rains down upon his
 sunlight upon us... As He  chooses,
so it shall be.
          He is the one who has been the
underlying intention in this, and some of the
verses He has written literally, many of the verses.
And damned if I know which parts!
I'm just talikng out loud in retrospect...
            I no longer have much of a memory.
And I thank God I'm not the one who
is going to have to sort this situation out...
         Maybe no one will sort this out... Maybe
these pages will meld into obscurity like so
many rotten autumn leaves.
          But I don't feel that will occur.

         I thought I was writing this for the
salvation of our nations, so that we may
be born again through the Mind of the True One.
So that our heart and soul, the core of the psyche
of our country may be renewed... and
I was writing for this reason - that the Truth,
which had been buried for so long,
should live.

        But what I didn't know was  -
 my own salvation is dependent upon this 
endeavour, as well.
        So I had better get on with it. None of us
know how much time any of us have got left...
although I'm quite sure all of us have more than
one kick at the can...
         (If you looked at me right now, you'd think I'm
pretty much finished. Hell, that's what I think
when I look in the mirror.
         I ran into a bishop last night and he
looked like a self-satisfied young
judge of a a preliminary criminal court...
 a judge who knows nothing about
the suffering of the people before him and 
who  cares even less.
         He asked me: "Are you all right?"
         I was surprised by his question,
because of course I'm all right; and then
I thought, oh yes, it's because of all this
hair I have, because Miss Gwendolyn
Dickens - the woman who raised me
in Jamaica - she taught me that a man's strength
is in his hair, and that in the Bible
 the prophets never run a comb
through their hair...
          I believed her, and I still do, and so
people judge me for having this hair.)
           I suppose I was judging this man
just as much as I assumed he was  judging me.
Maybe he was being more understanding
than I was. I certainly hope so.You just never
           "No one's above and no one's below."

Jesus said:   "Why did you come here,
                     to see a reed shaken by the wind? 
And to see a man clothed in soft garments?
See, your kings and great ones are
those who are clothed in soft garments
and they shall not be able to know
the Truth."
                     "Do you seek for the treasure
which fails not, which endures, 
there where no moth comes near
to devour and where no worm
destroys. Then come out in the desert
and see Me. I am the Light that is
above them all, I am the All, the All
came forth from Me and the All attained
to Me. Cleave a piece of wood: I am there.
Lift up a stone and you will
find Me there."
            "Find that one Pearl of true
Wealth, and sell all else."
            "Solitary are the ones
who will enter the Bridal Chamber."

      ** One must receive the Gift before one
can give in love; and one man must give in love
in order to receive the Gift; and the Gift
existed before men were to give; and men
received the Gift that they might live. And
bless He who is before he was or shall be.
As the Gift is before the world was.

              The above verse is the one I was talking about.
It is one of many that came through
my highly concentrated state...
        You be the judge. 

                                              (C)2013 by William G. Milne,
                                                All rights reserved.      
                                                 All proceeds to build a
                                                  bell on the hill.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013


Jesus said: "See, my poetical friend.
I am the true Poet, the one and only
Source of Poetry. If you will know Me,
you will know Yourself."

The poet said: "But, You are the last
Prophet. you are the True One. You
are the Christ. When did poetry
become Prophecy?"

Jesus said: "My good friend, Poetry
was always Prophecy, from the very
beginning, and so shall it be until
the end, which there shall never be.
For verily, verily, I say unto you,
beyond all time, there is poetry.
You, son of infinite Beauty, soon
you are destined to see."

The poet said: "And what shall I
see, Lord?"

Jesus said: "You shall see Poetry."

The poet asked: "Beyond the beginning
and the ending, I shall see Poetry?"

Jesus said: "The beginning is the ending;
the ending, the beginning; and there
never shall be an end; and there never
was a beginning. But I say unto you,
this heaven and earth shall pass away,
yea, the very sky shall pass by, but
the Poet shall never die."
        "But see, poetical friend, so many
who seek, so many also who remain
asleep; be good to such as these; for
all of these, every son of Man is of Me.
So be merciful, my helpful friend, and
you shall be judged accordingly. For
as a man judges, so is he judged. So
it shall ever be."
          "In so much as you are good to
the least of these, you are good to Me."

The poet said: "But what would you have
me do, Father, wha would you have 
me be?"

Jesus said: "I ask merely that you
record this new Gospel; that you see
it rooted deeply in the soil of the
True One, before you leave, and
come to Me. I ask no more of you
than this: record faithfully... and
use your gifts to see the True Vine
planted freely. Do I ask too much
of thee?"

The poet said: "Master, what you ask
is my Destiny."

Jesus said: "I know it well, friend. So
shall the prophecy be fulfilled. 'I shall
come again.'"

The poet said: "But, Lord, You never

Jesus said: "How easy is it then for
Me to come. So shall the prophecy
be fulfilled. "I shall come again."

The poet said: "You who have been
from the beginning of time, the beginning
that is the end. I could write endless
stories of You; but what purpose would
that serve? Would it serve your End,
stories that He who has always been,
has come again? What an unlikely
servant you chose in me."

Jesus said: "Yes, but I say unto you,
you would not have come to Me, had
you not sinned."

The poet said: "Well, then, O happy
fault, O blessed sin, that he who is
lead astray may through wickedness
be found again. Then indeed is the
whole world part of Your Mercy.
If You will receive such as me."

Jesus said: "I do receive you, and
you shall receive Me."

The poet said: "O happy ending, that
makes such a beginning."

                                             (C)1980, by William G.Milne
                                               All rights reserved.

Friday, December 6, 2013


          Jesus said: "Finally the Father sent
His Son to receive the fruits of his lands, 
saying: "Perhaps they will respect my Son."
But the husbandmen, knowing that he
was the heir of the vineyard, they
seized him. they killed him. Whoever
has ears, let him hear."
        "But the Son is always here, and
builds a new Kingdom for those who
would face death and conquer fear.
The Son builds for the hungry ones
who would be filled, not for those who
are asleep. When the harvest is here,
it is most easy to separate the chaff
from the wheat, the weeds from the
living Seed. They are separate already,
living in different realms in the same
Place. I am here. I wait for you.
The Father has given you the Son,
that you may know yourself, and
that the two may become One."
        "Many are standing at the door,
but the solitary are the ones who
will enter the bridal chamber."

         "Let him who has power renounce
it, until he sees the true Light which
is hidden in the Image of the Life of the
Father. If he is worthy, he will not
taste death."
         "Why do you wash the outside
of the cup? Do you not understand
that he who made the inside is also
he who made the outside?"
         "Come to Me, for you
are in need. And once that need
touches you, it will never let you
be: that need for the Truth."
         "I will give you what is Mine,
that which is Mine shall be yours
also. For verily, verily, from
the beginning  til the end of time,
what is Mine is yours, and what is
yours is Mine."
          "Whoever drinks from My mouth
shall become as I am and I myself will
become he, and the hidden things
shall be revealed to him. He who
lives on the Living One shall see
neither death nor fear, because he
has made himself worthy. Woe to
the flesh which depends upon the soul;
woe to the soul which depends upon the
flesh. It is necessary to make the two
One. And then My Kingdom, which has
always been here, will come."
        The poet was silent.

Sunday, November 17, 2013


        The following passages come mostly from
a Chapter of the Cliff-Top Text called:  "The Legacy."
The passages in  quotation marks:  "quotes", are
the passages taken directly from the Chapter.

       " The poet walked out into the wilderness

        Behind him, leaving all comforts of home
or family, all thoughts of daily commerce, all
desire for his lady, and with a clear mind
walked alone into the depths of the
forest, taking with him only water and
 oil to light a lamp.
          The poet was returning to the depths
of his soul. He was also doing what he
was told.
        He came to a clear and breezy place,
near a hilltop and overlooking lakes and
valleys. The cloudy autumn air was beginning
to get a little chilly. The poet was about
serious business - yet not to be taken
seriously by anyone except those
who are trapped within the confines of
specific identities."
        At the top of the cliff, he lit a fire
among the rocks that stood on a rise
behind the cliff face. He poured water
into a pot and let it boil over the fire.
Into the pot he threw all edible forms
of food and fuel he found in the woods
around him - ferns, and leaves, 
wintergreen berries, and all kinds
of manna which was growing
beneath the trees of the forest
around him.
            He cooked up the brew and
drank it; it tasted tart, and sweet;
it tasted sour also, but of the
earth itself.
          "After a time, sitting in the
silence, he started to laugh at
all his worries; he laughed at himself,
at his serious concerns and determinings;
his food worries, his business worries,
his  own inexplicable primordial fear worry."
     "It seemed ridiculous to him
that such fearful thoughts and concerns
should blind him - blind him to the
whole vast and panoramic scene that
was unfolding before the poet, both
within himself and externally. The
world, or so it seemed, was too vast
for such blindness, such inexplicable
             Yet there it was before him;
a whole populace that had forgotten,
residing concernedly in the valleys
          "How silly," the poet murmured, "They do
not see themselves. They do not know themselves.
They are filled with a thousand desires, concerns
and interests. But they have missed out on the
most important business: themselves. The wordl
around them, themselves, they have forgotten
themselves, their true birthright, their destiny;
they have inreality forgotten their true history.
They are too busy to see!" The poet howled. He
laughed uproariously. He fell down on the rocks
chuckling to himself. He looked demented."
          "And so the poet, being a quiet and unassuming
man of moderate ways, decided to uproot the
whole false plant of human blindness, to tear it
out by its roots and shake it like a deranged dog
in the face of those who had allowed, in all
complacency, this false plant to grow. Beneath
him, in the valley, people were getting fat.
Dogs were fighting."
        "Because he was a quiet and unassuming
man, the poet was enraged, and decided to
throw a gauntlet to the age. To see if any man
of vision might arise worthy of the task of
        "The poet was a simple man. He only
minded his business. The problem was,
he saw the true nature of his business,
and he minded it well."
       "Others of his age doubted there could
ever be a true vision of Eternity. The poet
knew differently. And so received the Will
of One who was greater than he. He opened
the Will, and read diligently. He opened
himself. For so it has been said truly:
"If one is to learn how to give, one must
first know how to receive."


        Out of the ancient papyrus scroll,
out of the holy sacred preserving
sands of Egypt, came the texts
which had been suppressed for so many years...
 suppressed by the Empire Church, and
the Tenth Roman legion marching across
Egypt to drive out the early Christians. 

         Of course, called them, "heretics"
for the "heretics" told the truth in the best
ways they were able. But the Truth is like a
hot potato. Unless He is God, no man can
 hold it for very long. What is the phrase? 
"Human kind cannot bear very much reality."
         The true Living Word of the Christ
is like a bell ringing throughout the centuries.
The bell has been muted by the unbelievers;
but the bell has never been silenced.
        I understand why so many ran from the
Living Word. Myself, I ran also. I ran like
a rabbit; I bobbed and weaved, as if I was
avoiding the blows of a champion boxer.
        But there is no mistaking the Bell,
when you hear it ring. There is no mistaking
the Words of the Living Christ.

The poet said: "Help me, Lord. Help me, Father,
                       to see."
Jesus said: "I am helping thee. Soon you will
                  know Me. But there will be days 
                  when you will wish to forget
                  I exist. There will be days when
                  others will ask you if you saw Me.
                  And you will deny Me."

The poet said: "Lord, that is not true."

        But, of course, it was true. I ran like
a rabbit, and I denied Him constantly. I drank
booze - much as I could - for about twenty
        It was all too heavy!  It was all too much
for me - the burning Vision within. The one Mind
that is eternal... the Heart-Mind, the Mind of
All Souls.... the Mind that is Soul....The Mind
that is Love... The Heart that is Whole.


       How do I know this is the Second Coming
of the Lord?
        Because the Living Christ, the One who
is eternal life; I know Him to be here with us.
The Living Christ of the Lord of Hosts, the Lord
of Abraham and Jacob, the Lord of Israel, the Israel
that was meant to be, not the Israel of atrocity,
the Lord of Albian, Lord of the Americas. He has
           And He is speaking still from this holy place.
From among these hills.

       "Somehow the earliest Christian gospels
had survived. The poet saw this as a miracle.
And  now he had a copy of the ancient texts, 
and he had  a place to reside; where he could
concentrate his mind and work on these
 phrases that came to him out of the mists
of time."
        "Indeed that morning, there was a mist
hanging over the lakes and valleys."
I am interested in Vision; I am interested in
 revelations brought to us in dreams;
and I am fascinated by the voice
of the Christ, Voice who speaks
to us so clearly, across the sea and across 
the centuries.
attempting to express the Truth
         These  are the voices we find
in the discovered Library.
          There were many books and 
writings,scrolls and extant gospels
 at the time the Bible was being assembled. 
The Bible and the New Testament, as we find
it today, was not assembled by God; it
was put together by a highly politicized 
group of Bishops, the Chamber of Commerce
of their day.
        What has been passed down to us is
a castrated bible, and we really cannot correctly
see it in any other way.
         The so-called canon is sent down to us
 as the ONLY truth. Nothing could be more
         History is written
 by the winners. 
          It was the winners, a 
conglomeration of bishops and other
businessmen, who chose the texts
that supported only those ideas
that would result in a strong and
prosperous enterprise - a money-
making church and clergy.
        As a result it was taught -
to commune with God you must
go through the church as middleman.
That's not what the early saints taught,
the early saints taught that our Creator
can be found by looking deeply
within ourselves.
           This was heresy, because it
cut out the middleman.
           The bishops also were not
happy with the discovery that the Trinity
might also be said to include a female voice,
the voice of Mary from the Gospel of Mary,
the voice of Mary in "The Thunder, Perfect Mind."

        The Council of Nicea, 325 A.D., excluded
many of the sacred texts that ought to have
been preserved for us.
        It excluded the many other gospels and
holy writings that  were extant at the
time - some of these books had been
circulated to most of the countries
that ring the Mediterranean sea.
             We see none of these texts,
spiritual essays and Gospels - no,
we have one view only - the convenient
view of the conquerors who saw religion
as an arm of the state, an organ of
control (to mix a metaphor), a way
of seeing that supported their monopolistic
opinion of what was the best way to run
a lucrative show.
          Of course, there were exceptions...
Origen, for example, who cut his own
testicles off - he must have cared deeply
about something...
           At any rate, at the Council of
Nicea, 325 A.D, the bishops chose 
those books that placed the church 
 dead centre in the way of man's quest for
 revelation and communion with God.

Jesus said: "A vine has been planted
                  without the Father and,
as it is not established, it will 
be pulled up by its roots and be
destroyed. Woe to these false
preachers who adminsiter temporal
kingdoms, for they shall not see
the Kingdom, yet they prevent others
from seeing."
        "Upon the rock of Peter,
a common man, I built my church
in three days. Upon this rock I still
build my church. Woe to them, the
Pharisees, for they are like a dog
sleeping in the manger of oxen, for
neither does he eat, nor does he
allow the oxen to eat. Blessed is
the man who knows the robbers
will come in. He will be strong
and protect himself from brigands
that he may see Me when he is
still alive: that he does not die
without the Knowledge I am born
to speak."