The short story of a sophianic moonlight friend.

There is one who kneels me, who pulls me to the Sky beneath the Earth. Around her, my heart is heavy with the gravity of love.

Love, like a wound that needs forever to bleed in order to heal; a union of suffering and bliss that asks for no more than a brief kiss.

In that short time, the whole world unwinds in anticipation of the rise of the divine. Lips hear each other without gasping for air, and Wisdom passes purely between souls.

Quickly, the Word returns to where it was told, and all was one, all was old. For evidence of God, look the I of another in the eyes. You’ll see reflected the ancient story of the Moon, with light down shining from the Sun.

Discover the face of she who wears the life of the Earth as skin. With time, she weaves the wonders of the world into space, making matter through imaginative impress.

Remember the meaning of the future, the destined death of earth. What lives is hiding here today, but will be gone tomorrow. Know thyself, and love thy neighbor.

Cocoons look at first like coffins. But beneath the scab is a living ouroboric embryo, recreating itself from within. The Human and the Earth have been swallowed by the Sky. Now we must learn to tell the tail from the story.

Wisdom is never worried, because time always tells her when it’s up.

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One Comment Add yours

  1. Bart Segall says:

    Let me know if you need car again

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