its not the moving away but the movement toward that which draws it like to source
the course exacting distillation of the cause and solid forms that bear the spaces there between the structures of the infinite below to know the smell of sea and fog upon the shell of flesh and bone to own no vessel last and final coming to a place of crystal sands the lands forgotten form the former folly of a source design the stirring with the thunder
the force down under tempest winds in waltzes held in firm embrace blue arms blue face a subtle grace the anima that flies and feeds the young its flesh consuming widow’s male in crystal chalice held on high a personal universal walkabout willing collaboration with companions on the ruddy path the merry men and women retrieving sacred geometry of reason that which holds and builds cathedrals of the mind no person held in ancient weathered time r wise aloft r fed their saintly exploits to the martyrdom of having all the surface film removed with tethered knife or gallant sword walking through the walls of earth 2 realized all sacred birth from mothers of the stone the wonderment aloneis vision to a witnessed eye brief times of eternity n placement of events in places on the space of naught…immense that fit on heads of pins the distance immeasurable