We your arcs in the Great Font Father, whose paths you spiral in Higher Order Each Light ordained in each chain Each chain laid across each Light Each reason a Rose of perplexing emergence Where each face begets it’s face to itself For an Eternity. Every aspect
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An aspect unto itself; an Eternity into itself. At times the wind itself is not the wind itself, we see now Father, how knowing is not knowing. The shadows of Order present in every moment. A whining, shining, whirling concepting A binding and turning a tuning and wavering
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So that at each point is a sheaf of perplexity where the vaults themselves remain the same. What choices for gems you have given us, Father. These Mothers who teach us The Way.
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