The Air Is Cool and Brisk

By ℑ.ℬ.
I  owe thee a waiver, 
       For the love of error in, 
      Thee. For you are in me. 

T  he truth of you and the many, 
       Spirits are forever and, 
       Will always remain in error,
       A holy array in thee,
       Smallest amount of truth,
       So you can change in the,       
       Moment. 

F  or some will make error into, 
        A Law, nay-- a spiritual law, 
        All along while he knoweth, 
        His own disease, forming, 
        To his own law. 

T  he True Law forgives, 
         For love and all good imperfects, 
         Binding, as a spiritual union, 
         For one soul. 

O'  you who hear the, 
        Calling of spirit, 
        Our array will, 
        Shine into every, 
        Facet known by life. 

A  nd the array will, 
         Blossom into, 
         Many fields to harvest.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Quick Ditty on the Nature of Time.

By ℑ.ℬ.
A Quick Ditty on the Nature of Time. Time for most of us is linear, that is it moves in one direction:  Forward.  The events that are dotted and recorded go in an archive of sorts through empirical means such as books or other mediums.  Events are biologically stored too, in our own memory and some even in a hypothetical collective memory.  The dotting and recording there is recalled at will or involuntary and is mostly done autonomously, unless done through some form of therapy, meditation etc.  All that should make us wonder what time actually looks like so we could reason how it works, and ultimately we may ask why and easily say why not.   So, time imho is not linear but it is linear.  And this is because we do not think in terms of backwards time when we are in forward time.  This can easily be imagined if we think of time as a quadrant of four spinning wheels.  The two top wheels spin in unison and forward time is in between them....
Read more

To Care or Not to Care

By ℑ.ℬ.
To care or not to care, Is like the tree in the forest, When he falls does his sound remain unspoken, Or the bird who sings her song in the cool winters dew, Go lost unspoken for forever, Or the pur of the Dragons whos flame Aye suffer, Might this Care be spoken in words that last for a wee bit for those who gave more, yet take it less.
Read more

The Ninja

By ℑ.ℬ.
Swift, sleent, & deedly, Mighty Ninja swings her sword steady, Her sword sings for gods Glory, Wilt and forged is her Honor, See the Ninja and you knowth Nothing, Swift, slient, & Deadly has ... gone.
Read more