Rainby Mary LambertIs this what it comes to? This struggle for sense and strategy? A swift dart carries the message "It doesn't exist except in the Sahara of logic." So what remains? Logic, the great mesmerist, locks out all truth but its own. Babies, we pursue an alphabet that makes God so limited, the essence of His galaxy is lost. To Logic's paring method, we lose our souls to rationale, tragically fearful of losing our grip. Turning our backs on inner nebulae, not grasping their calculation, doors to the universe remain closed. Shriveled in our pyramids of linearity, this benighted galaxy patiently spirals around us, Waiting, waiting, that we might watch a drop of water fall and splash the eternal answer. |
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