I Love Everybody

And now the buildings change. Now the people change. Everything changing. Spirit and matter most apparent. Realised there never was anything to worry about, to doubt was insane. The limited, callow, isolated individuals living on housing estates in Chingford, large detached houses in Kew, tower blocks on the Tottenham marshes, become my gods. I see an accounts clerk from Tooting, I see Zeus. A sanitary inspector from the London Borough of Haringay, and Brahmin stands resplendent before me. For five minutes I love everybody. There is only love. All action ceases. The Mile End Road, once a blood-stained battleground of Bacchanalian excess, becomes the Garden of Gethsemane. A bitter, 72-year old ex-docker becomes the ever-compassionate Buddha. A Cypriot minicab driver becomes St Francis of Assissi. The 22-year-old Glaswegian checkout girl is the divine mother. I love everybody. My spirit is free. I am limitless in space, time and matter, simultaneously the planet Neptune, part of the structural support to Vauxhall Bridge. I am your left breast, I am Stepney, I am Peru, I am divine and so are you. I love everybody. I am nothing except a mere cluster of notes, a road sign in Skelmersdale. I ran the Roman Empire. I was a lavatory attendant in Hull. I am everybody and everybody is me. Spirit. Who put the spirit in matter? Love.