A point. sequence perchance a pattern things constantly intertwined perfect circle golden ratios where there are 2's there are 3's
but in the end...mystics
Our lady & father as named in scripture
sequential gatherings we join as community worshipers
there are patterns as I walk numbers as we talk non-believers gather on us Herald, we walk as words from your mouth into eternal shall we seek forth that which repeats onto itself, changing again and again into familiarity?
Or has it been found already? Perhaps before the eye could see it or the mind conceive it.
We take hope upon the chance this is but the process into something we have finished in ages past For what would it be to know the answer, without the how, without the meaning?
We may know the how, given time, however the meaning hasn't been seen yet & the purpose has faded as other things become clear. Must there always be this strict balance?
Perhaps the comprehension of such balance is a sect, missing among a unitary spiral of knowledge.
Always this path is uncertain, I navigate it as much as can be done, but this vessel is fickle & prone to deranged bouts of change
As I think, breathe, see, hear, vibrate, pulse, fluctuate with life...there is nothing and I revel in it
Wrote this right after watching the movie Pi by Darren Aronofsky: a mathematic cerebral thriller of sorts. I love that movie as I seem to relate to many parts of it. Math is the language of nature and this is my own form of questioning myself and those around me.