For Whom There is No Shadow
composed with due prostrations unto the nearly incomprehensible cosmic Godhead
All life, it would seem, however subdivided, is further found to be made up of parts - the ‘thing’ (whatever it is you are examining or scrutinizing) and its opposite, which together form a composite.
Yin and yang, opposites which together form the composite, ‘yin-yang’.
Man and woman, sexual opposites whose union has the power to bring about new life.
You might be inclined to add to this list, ‘light’ and ‘dark’ - they are, however, not opposite but poles; they obviate or neutralize each other. In the study of supersymmetry, in which the particular nature of all things is studied for their cosmological and minute opposites, it has been determined (as far as the tools of human sense can determine, however indirectly) that the photon is a particle with no opposite. Darkness is not the opposite of light; it is its absence. Light, therefore, has no opposite. With what, then, if anything, does it combine to form a composite?
With nothing. With no thing. Peerless, ineffable, unconditionally giving by its very nature, light, without opposite, which is to say, free from duality, creates life where and when the conditions are right, sustains life where it already is, and destroys, or better yet, terminates life indirectly by its absence.
What is this ‘life’? What does it mean to be alive? Only that you find yourself a part, a separation, searching either explicitly or implicitly for your opposite, that which will make you whole.
More often than not, emotion is better stirred and reverence for the abstract is better felt when personified, for that which has form, that which is made manifest is more eminently adorable to we who see form all the waking day as well as the dreaming night. To Him whose dreamstuff we are, as well as whose ever-waking lifeforce sustains us in our confusion and our clarity both, again, without judgement or condition, I salute and prostrate before Kala Bhairava, for Whom there is no shadow, across lifetimes innumerable, and dedicate these words feebly scratching at the truth.
