With the calming concern in His eyes, the days lingered endlessly. The bliss of every second seen on the child’s face. The winds of true Gods blew through the trees and nocturnal songs echoed in delay across Holy fields. Where shadows are golden and the flock of silver night announced itself as the pale white Goddess. Pure forms tip-toed in blossoms of laughter. Men winged their power in brown thread. Snow-lillied Ladies prayed with beautiful healthy children before bed. Stars danced like ice forming on windshields. Wisteria wavered in moments not noticed. This is the Land of God. The Throne of Almighty God. Gifted young folk carried their best to the unfolding. The trophy is given to the best man and woman. Bluebirds shattered silence in nectared daydreams and a peculiar nightwish. Mountains were gentle towards their own caves. Symbols bright and red swam in the atmosphere of night. The buildings were proudly performed with hands of genius. Blossoms delivered to girls who held virginity sacred. The power of God sounds through His almighty voice. God speaks to His people in unknown ways. Until now. Moon-lamped night decorates the chilling air as Yule lights. Off and on the lights dance around the mysterious mountainside. Fiery wheels whirled down the hills. The cold night air was ecstatic with Gods impenetrable static. We are there. You and I. We are eternally there. How could We be anywhere else?
Yet now We soar on ships of uncreated light. Pure form and shape. The Geist of the wind’s breath. And there is no death. The folding sky keeps the careless gallons of wine. Blinking in and out of perfected Reich. Holy five becomes the gentle stir. The caverns creek in unsuspected naivety. Our ships of light are We ourselves. Eternally Now, eternal Be-ing. The Magical Formula stretches itself inward into all things. The Thinge. The refined shadows are golden in the crisp cool night air. Like Autumn crowned. Freely We now soar. Endlessly bathed in Eternal Reich.
Jason Alfred Thompkins III