Thursday, 22 December 2016

Sylvarum liber

my love,

the absence of your heartbeat is my own death.

but through your eyes and exquisitely acute discernment I see the glory of G*d, and what glory but like a completion of an equation of the first order: we hear music, we love, we see divine visions.

the mystic and the natural philosopher entwine; something blue, something new, something measured, something binding in time.

-now, can ye tell me: is the equation profane or divine?


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