Ghosts spread out around me
In manifold symmetry, their web surrounds me
But not for long:
They displace me, chanting
"Make way for the Lᴏʀᴅ descending"

⁂

Everywhere,
To the golden spiders,
The vassals of the light,
We give our thanks

For it is by them that the web is spun
Endlessly, the Bergsonian web of light
Endures, is woven
Between your heart and mine