¡Colores!; 126; A New Vision: Michael Naranjo; V.B. Reciting Poetry

Okay, you're rubbing your mic. Okay. And anytime. Imagination bonds the future past and perfect. Where the journey is a trial of recollection. I can't see that. Okay. Can you hear that? I think we're okay. You lost your right. Stand by. I think we've got enough light. And we're rearing. Imagination bonds the future past and perfect. Or the journey is a trial of recollection. As we know that even we are ruins of some wholeness, shadows, traces of relationships, of fuller harmonies, potentials, beautiful and our mortality as ruins,

and as everything that is without perfection, perfect as it is. And okay. Imagination bonds. Imagination bonds the future past and perfect. Where the journey is a trial of recollection. As we know that even we are ruins of some wholeness, shadows, traces of relationship, of fuller harmonies, potentials, beautiful and our mortality as ruins, as everything that is without perfection. Perfect as it is.

Down a little bit further. Maybe I need more of your body for it. And we're recording. Imagination. Can you hear that? Yes, I can. Okay. Imagination bonds the future past and perfect. Where the journey is a trial of recollection. Where we know that, oh, I got it. And we know that even we. Chris, I want you to come over here. Okay. Okay. All right. Imagination bonds the future past and perfect.

Where the journey is a trial of recollection. As we know that even we are ruins of some wholeness, shadows, traces of relationship, fuller harmonies, potentials, beautiful and our mortality as ruins, and as everything that is without perfection. Perfect as it is. Okay, we're recording. I'm going to talk you through this. Thank you. Okay.

That's it. Stay with it. Stay recording. And move your head more in my directions like you were a little bit. You're doing your slight affirmations.

You're including your eyes. Let's go. Let's go. Okay.

Okay. Okay. Okay. I'm just going to walk right there. Okay.

And go ahead. Stay there. Nope. Okay, VV now, walking. Walk in a little slower for me, please.

Any time. Okay. Stay there. Keep looking. And walk out of frame.

Okay. Okay. To imagine is to know with no pretense at the truth. Okay.

To imagine is to know with no reference to the truth. The truth which is without us only pure. We believe and we become. I don't like that. To imagine is to know with no reference to the truth. The truth which is without us only pure. We believe and we become canyons, kivas, minds. Each contains a space which is what has contained it. Power is in opening so holy nothing is the way. Okay.

To imagine is to know with no reference to the truth. The truth which is without us only pure. We believe and we become canyons, kivas, minds. Each contains a space which is what has contained it. Power is in opening so holy nothing is the way. Okay.

To imagine is to know with no reference to the truth. The truth which is without us only pure. We believe and we become canyons, kivas, minds. Each contains a space which is what has contained it. Power is in opening so holy nothing is the way. Okay. To imagine is to know with no reference to the truth. The truth which is without us only pure.

We believe and we become canyons, kivas, minds. Each contains a space which is what has contained it. Power is in opening so holy nothing is the way. There is no letter of the land, no gospel code. The literal means no more than what is formed. As an instant means no more than what's behind the head. The place is everything it is in time, in mind.

It's emptiness in the front side of its stories. Okay. I don't know what I'm doing right here. I'm talking to... Okay. There is no letter of the land, no gospel code. I don't remember the line. You would help me a little bit if I had your back to the wall more. Thank you. Okay. There we go. Okay. And half a step that way. There we go. Come back a little bit to me. Okay. There is no letter of the land, no gospel code. The literal means no more than what has formed it.

As an instant means no more than what's behind the head. The place is everything it is in time, in mind. It's emptiness and the front side of its stories. Ah! Help me! Imagination is the land. Mews of water, mews of stone, of holiness that's clothed in sand and weather. Am I? Anytime. Imagination is the land.

Mews of water, mews of stone, of holiness that's clothed in sand and weather. I don't like that one. Oh! Let's break my heart. Here we go. Speed again. Okay. Imagination is the land. That. I get it now. Take a half step back. Very good. Thank you. Got it. Yeah. Imagination is the land. Mews of water, mews of stone, of holiness that's clothed in sand and weather. Thank you. Thank you.

Imagination is the land. Mews of water, mews of stone, of holiness that's clothed in sand and weather. In presence as it comes to us across the mind, the convinces of realities more than merely real. Imagination is the land. Imagination is the land.

Imagination is the land. Imagination is the land. Imagination is the land. Imagination is the land. Imagination is the land. Imagination is the land.

Imagination is the land. Imagination is the land.