The Melody within No longer reverberates That beauteous love song O, that Bountiful Ballad but My heart sings a brand new paean: One of creation, Of Wisdom, Of freedom, Of might, Of consecration.
Yes, sometimes solitude Heightens our spiritual senses, Reawakens our provident defences; O, denudes our vexations. Know the Sacral Light Absolving every deathly pang Is found By Dovening Divine Aether, And summoning the Silver Wings Of the Holy Dove.
Movement is neither peripheral Nor internal; Pain is neither deserved Nor natural; All things Are just as they appear To be An evident demonstration Of a Higher fidelity.
Matter reverberates upon the Molecular level; We are, more Than flesh, bone, and marrow; We are, Life, Love, and Liberty; We are, a Breathing Song That exhales edification, inspiration, Contemplations, and excogitations.