Grace and transcendence, such strange jewels gleam and waive, off of worn stone and page, casting stray light upon seekers. A luminous clarity awaits along segmented lines, the uninitiate wait for an exit. This state of being is it mere transition in pause, an existance in-between the notes of the piper, purgatorial custodians wiping the mirror clean, only to catch a reflection not yet rendered in the same light, of whats to come, of what were told is to be. A golden bath of translucent effulgence awaits to cleanse the earthen stones, to raise vibrations, to hear the chorus of angels wings, the Great Migration through the Void. Though to have and to hold this septor, this spine, toned and defined, swaying to the rhythms of these mortal progressions. As the symphony of Mountain and Ocean, of Love and Loss, of Joy and Sadness, pulses within and without us all. Is this High and Low, the signal we have been waiting for, the vibration of divinity coursing through these mortal veins, to animate the world. As the story of creation walks out from the lighted room, to carry forth the flame into the cave, to light up the walls and paint the signatures of our arrivals, of our depatures. As the experience of the Universe is becoming, becoming more Human.
– Josh Fleming
Image by: Márton Király