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The candle lit.

The altar built.

Eyes fixed

upon the empty page.

Space made sacred.

Self stripped naked.

Burn me to ashes,

Great Catabolism,

Let a son be the sun,

for a moment, Oh

Radiant Anabolism,

of the bodyless body.

The flicker of the candle whispers:

“Make the self sacred,

you will be salt in

a glass of water.”

“Now drink from the cup,

taste the waveless ocean.”

“Let its winds exhale

through your lungs

And the sacred,

be breathed

into the world

of men,

once more.”

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That which can be clearly explained…can be kind of boring! 😉 love these meanderings through the forest.

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Feb 10Liked by River Kenna

lovely...reminds me of this line from Sunstone (Paz):

there is nothing inside me but a large wound,

a hollow place where no one goes,

a windowless present, a thought that returns

and repeats itself, reflects itself,

and loses itself in its own transparency,

a mind transfixed by an eye that watches

it watching itself till it drowns itself

in clarity

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I am curious whether you have been in dialogue with Peter Limburg

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author

nope, not since my Stoa session last year -- should I be?

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I don’t know. I just caught an intuition.

The both of you to me seem a complementary pair in yin / yang, soul / spirit dimensions.

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