Huge blocks of time go by in nano-seconds, as a black brilliance quantum-shrinks whole colour-scapes of conjecture into zen punctuation of the yet to be declared. So this is the season for holy merriment. And the treasure of it is stirring mightily. While the mystic gifts of a first take are in miracle mugger mode … no innocent abroad is unknown to their generous agenda … promising to beat the death out of you in a light alley, and then give you everything.
Who should be so lucky as to be here now … if not for you … with the slightest trace of Yes blood-streaming through the soft tissue of haphazard presence. Star of wonder, alright. Speckling the midnight brew with irresistible tabs of awakening-in-oblivion and summoning the fabulous company of lost promise to one real round of super-vivid disappearance.
Even the robes of welcome to ‘come what may’ have been streamlined through a vanishing point to deeply crafted, utterly real transparencies of power and glory. Glorious array indeed. As I am writing this, my beloved has just come in and dropped into my lap a paperback ‘Proof of Heaven’ … well, OK, yes, sure, thanks!
And so this scribal moment is done for now. Time for meeting and beyond. The summation is on and no finishing touch is required. Leaving the dots blinking in a greeting kind of way. ‘Nar mean.