Soot

Infinite – Mystic Poetry

Virtue

You, the infinite.

Ever extending, brightened insight. 

The constant prayer, the inner silence overlapping.

Jubilation’s chair, hope in repair. 

Envisioned spectacular ceremonial mapping. 

A heightened accord, a breath-full of words. 

A heart-warmed ford to breeze through the formless. 

Your subtle starlight, strumming reflections elevating the air. 

Singing the day’s symphonies, dancing celestials the shadows in busk. 

An inner task. 

Particulars past. 

Temporal to godspeed. Salt to spirit. 

A scintillating urgency observations grasp. 

Lifetimes in repetition cues muscle-memory for self-discipline’s harp. 

The questions queue answers in beat-boxes. 

A hastened learning curve twangs to attune the twine. 

You in the vowel, my consonant delight. The heart beats a flight.

In another life of delivered letters. Forwards a meter to foot the syllables on your path.

All the earthly in ancient swoon, sunshine the moon and back in your smile. 

Upon my lips, it stays awhile. Sating to the shine of your ways, for always.  

Above feeling and sensation. 

In the place of repose. 

In the melding of form to the soul’s reform. The one love that pervades, the universe’s fabric breathes to its cascades. 

I enter my Lord’s house, with my bridled’s reflection, the triumph that trumpets,  A union of divine circumspect. A devotion inflects. 

Amidst the joy, the singing vessel howls a well of tears, a sacred lake in reverence, a river of light flows its deliverance. Time halts its constant march, offering the Moon’s reprieve from eternal parch. The winds spread to nature’s enchant, bowing to ripen and attune the tree of repose to a yearning branch. 

This veil of separation, the distance sanctifying in-seams. 

The breath in reparation, the soul reaching its light to the finite’s in-between. 

Transcendental until manifest, like the spirit dweller upon the threshold, gently waiting to adore. Cosmic the longings implore. 

Had of the cup of knowledge, sought and outpoured to healing’s flight and all manners betwixt in mystical rites. The inner temple to house and hearth the temporal toast, divinities in crowns hath not the glory of true reflection, than the accord of the love’s heartened renown. 

A celestial profound, to anchor my smile in your surround of eternal resound. 

Patience beckons its coast, like the waves merely hover like these words like a pilgrim’s traces. 

Lit, the inner lamp yet reaches, heightened to your harmonies.

Like dew in the morning’s apparent adorn. 

Asunder this night of form, if you could hear in my heart, 

You would me as the shine in your eyes. 

And like the sky and its horizon, the sunrise to my surmise.

Infinite
Slow dawn

A coat of quotes and passing poetry

"winged

He who bends to himself a joy,

Does the winged life destroy ; But he who kisses the joy as it flies.

Lives in eternity's sunrise.

If you trap the moment before it's ripe, The tears of repentance you'll certainly wipe ;

But, if once you let the ripe moment go.

You can never wipe off the tears of woe.

"

Winged Life | The poetry of Horace

Happy to song – Belong

happy to reflection
Grace is, as you do. 

Form is as you heighten. Somewhere in the midst of existence is the marvel that you are. 

Any that find you, are blessed for it. Such is insight in your envision. 

This day is special to history, as with its yearly celebrate, for its kindness blurs the very depth of reality’s perception.

The unreal of attribute superseding even the surreal in a sentiment of tribute. 

happy to

For the shine will not wane, the ethereal glow that lightens the stupor enlivening into radiance’s sway. 

This day to birdsongs and lovingly fawn, doting to the fabric that listens to glisten in endear and ensign. 

The timekeeper of skies of ancient mysteries, the regale past the hours of periphery. 

The ground that breathes a little deeper today, the sun that shines a little brighter. The Moon as it peers upon your smile, the stars that shimmer a little longer as if just to catch a wish upon your sighs. The solar system switches resonance to your heart strums. The galaxies hitching along for a ride by your side. 

Happy to you, and all that is yours, the universe singing a hum to belong.

What a day to be grateful. To move inward to find expression. 

The cross-correcting currents in even make, contemplations pure. An odd way to wish, outpouring to affections’ underscore. 

A profound precipice this, as with everything of your reflection. 

Passages of learning usually in me find your mention, in commune almost like turning to tell you your heart feels like home. But the intensity of the words aside, the place of inner content in reside. The well-wishing sentiment tends to sprint rather than run its course. A cursory glance and fortuity’s balance. A tight-rope to emotion in aesthetic alliance. 

Degrees of certainty sifting through errors of parlance. 

Revolving doors to the wisdom in ever curling corner smiles, and restful manifest to your grace in childlike eyes of shine. 

In a loving universe, your path would be to be loved. The former for me, an aspiration, the latter I perceive the path to you. 

If I am a hymn, I would be yours. If life is an ode, then beside you, mine be the road. To hum a melody until the wind traces it to you in a song. 

I suppose I could have just said happy to you, 

But all of nature and the sky too, to you glow thoughtful and heart-warmed. 

To be grateful to all of existence for you, indeed the loving universe wizened to its surrender and splendour. 

In a heart-rendered hug, happy to you. 

A coat of quotes and passing poetry

"

Awake“Awake, Æolian lyre, awake,

 And give to rapture all thy trembling strings.

 From Helicon's harmonious springs    A thousand rills their mazy progress take:

The laughing flowers, that round them blow,

Drink life and fragrance as they flow.

Now the rich stream of music winds along

Deep, majestic, smooth, and strong,

Thro' verdant vales, and Ceres' golden reign:

Now rolling down the steep amain,   Headlong, impetuous, see it pour:

The rocks and nodding groves rebellow to the roar.”

The progress of Poesy - A pindaric ode from yore.

"

Progress of Poesy. | Thomas Gray.

Opposite – mystic poetry

opposite

The opposite.

For it is found, then profound. 

For in affinity, as it first set out in question. 

Wandering witness. Infinity born upon its head. Becoming that which is all-becoming. Then reverting to its true personality. The opposite in reflection. 

To all contain, then set out again. 

An answer found, now again the question wanders, setting the answer too upon its way. The answer will fit many, and make reflection. 

The question comes close, to all of them. Always to find the first answer only when it has changed. 

And then in its trueness, the question reveals part of its history. 

Every answer that was found, part of its many faces. 

The face of the question was the first answer. How far does affinity for a question go? Many questions were asked, only one answered.

opposite

A coat of quotes and passing poetry

"

PicassoArtwork : Self-potrait by Pablo Picasso.

"How like an Angel came I down! How bright are all things here! 

When first among His works I did appear, 

O how their Glory me did crown! 

The world resembled his Eternity, In which my soul did walk; 

And every thing that I did see Did with me talk. 

The skies in their magnificence, The lively, lovely air, 

Oh how divine, how soft, how sweet, how fair! 

The stars did entertain my sense, 

And all the works of God, so bright and pure, 

So rich and great did seem, 

As if they ever must endure In my esteem." 

"

Esteem | Thomas Traherne

The Taurean sang – Star Poetry in the astrology of the Zodiac

good

The Taurean sat and composed a song. It helmed all the other archetypes into a musical tether. And then hummed for itself another. 

One would have thunk, if one was a Taurus, but for that, it fit the Aries. And perfectly allowed the spark into flame to be. 

‘I would have to have to find myself’, the Aries returned to thought. 

And then as they set out in manifest to that effect, the reflection fell onto the song, and Taurus skipped a beat instead to point to the Gemini. 

The triangle of music looked squarely at the thought, and the Gemini felt itself another, both in what had already been. Music dwelled the emotion, and then the Cancer presented a wellspring. 

But who would sing? Languages crooned into their own becomings, listening to themselves for themes that would even tame the Moon. 

Leo roared to remind them of fire, and who can remind oneself but the one burning brightest. 

Taking a moment to breathe and the rest remained. The earthy delight brought the Virgo out constructing the very means of flight. 

The song intoned, the torus was three dimensional figure as a visual diaphragm, the Libra pipped and corrected the diagram to balance the diagonal logjams. 

The content to emotion brought the momentum to a Scorpio in scores of quantums and asking water scrolls. 

The point armed the Sagittarius, intuited to hold the flame, fired like a river onto its banks inspired in arrow. And the brow to furrow.

The Capricorn warmed like a mountain to song, and wound the thought like a string turned tight, tuned to the instrument’s might. 

The Aquarius invited itself into reflection like the air hearing breath and breadth into quadrupled boons. And interpersonal swoons.

The Pisces felt it, sussed out the melodies multiplying and played for the moon and back into a corner attuned. 

The corner turned, smiling zodiac to weather.

Whether to sing. Or find another in similar feather-strokes. 

And the sky to sigh. To the stars and back, in storied twinkling histories. 

Your tune. 

– The Taurean sang

Taurean sang

Translation of hymn (The space-weaver)

Chasing grace

Hear you