As a man, I sought this control over myself. Now, I finally have it.

Thus the men and women gathered in circles,
So give it time to assemble under sphere,
Reel by reel, rope on rope and flesh bis flesh,
Creek and toe, mute and sulk, a joy withheld,
Sing the way, a Shahadah, nor spell a name cast,
A wound in veil is but wound in thousands more,
Let this saken pruning my art so fine and dare,
A light is cooled by freezing teeth on snow dread’,
Breathe. Thine eyes closed. Now, I breathe again,
A stone bleeds with moss from the gaps between,
And though it sinks through air and the rain here
It does not temper the rock and mountain fall,
I walk as though I walk again for a first in while,
The sands brush against me, whilst snow dares to part,
And all the while my touch is frozen by God himself.
I choose a path that no other man would never dare,
So once I’m at the close of the circle, a semi appears,
Then square it, half the corners, round them; choose:
Amidst each figure, bring them forth, in fire, through dark,
Walk round, and choose, so that none may be chosen,
Then breathe. All is done, now kiss an air so cold well,
Drink, a bird in paradise descends and I shall feud,
I forgot it all. I’m in religion as memory perfect,
In reason fought, now thought as I is given brought,
Entrusted on me is a companion of these of two,
Once I fall, so shall the others fall with me.

Mystical, Poetry, Works
, , , , , , , , ,
%d bloggers like this: