#rubene

Never there

Imbued with scents of frankincense and myrrh wafting, Climbing, thy legends ascend into the alcove Of Man’s soul made rapturous, and to wits bequeathed Jerusalem’s oils, five censers set aflame.

Corporal existence should not be viewed as a separation of entities, but the divergences of one that has flung itself from the well of Eternity into the aether of the Temporal. Like a thought, when called upon it is given shape, colour, motion, and a breath which is their clay, malleable to their own discretion. But once its recollection has been complete it falls back into the waters of Memory, moving swift with the currents as it waits for the callings of Life in times of need.

The actions of Being are that of God refining himself through the experience of his own contemplation.