DELETE THIS PAGE FROM PRINTOUT THE GENESIS GOSPEL by David Kornblum Volume 3: BAPTISM: file #4 of 6. GG.5B3 THE GENESIS FOUNDATION 6928 Deer Springs Road Keystone Heights, Fl 32656 (904) 473-7713 Modem #: (904) 473-0252 BAPTISM page 116 Come to me, come with me, if only For the moment of these pages and the instant Of our touch. Come alive with me... Come alive to remain alive. Come alive in this patient lullaby of light. Come alive In fulfillment of a life, to sanctify life In the miracle of a life. The poignance of a life. The brevity, the nuance, the flare of a Life. Imagine The chill cold taste of morning... Arctic preambles at the edge of life... Moving a life nearer to a life. Believe with me for a moment Great hungry mornings, deep famished blue, The corn so ripe the kernels weep like gravity.... An invoice of cold, a pocket of stars... The Aristotelian majesty of your sight. The electrons singing just beneath consciousness.... Imagine such a viewer to be co-creator, The observer interfacing with the observed. This one, it is this one whom I would Have you believe. It is you. More than togetherness, it is a specie. More than coexistence, we are correlated. Worlds, probabilities, Converge with each breath. Crab moon nights And desolate days: blue has congealed to gray. Moments commit to a moment. Come dance with me, come linger awhile with me... Shouts of wind chorus the wind at my back. Clouds pop like tympani. Wet sweet songs Whoosh through your window. Tapestries Of green chisel the light into tears. Miles through the haunting stillness. And I am home. BAPTISM page 117 Miles, or was it Years? An exodus and an exit. Millennia compressed to a frame. Compressed between a moment and a moment In a nanosecond of motion. In one age and another. A fleet of somedays, a port of maybes. Begging nouns for verbs. Haunting the cosmos with the mission of my hands. So many lives to reach you. Years whitened my beard with hope. A circumference shrunk to a nucleus. And then a noose. An I became an eye. And then an age. And then One day, one life, I spoke. I cannot be sure what happened. I know they cannot know. The bone shattering light. The radiance stopping speech with a sigh. The magisterial interface beyond sight. The stillness. A silence saturating being Like prayer. The inwardness. The reach. The wonder. The incandescent lens. The horizon of my faith blossoming into a world. But not this world. But not the losses. But not the pain, nor the loneliness. BAPTISM page 118 Not these things that have burned a path To you. Nor the ages salting my words with Ideology. I know now you could not be reached Any other way. This is bifurcation. My words will no longer be spoken through others... They shall be spoken through you. I have only a song to bequeath you. I have only a tale to use as my instrument. The lives, the miles, the hopes, the dreams. Exits, emigration, exile and tears. I know that at the end I was alone. All I remember is the fatigue. It is not a life I remember, but a journey. Winter long and bread poor... What I remember to be years deepened my eyes With miles. I gave them peace. They defended it with war. I gave them love. They squandered it on skin. I gave them Freedom. They tyrannized it with dogma. I taught them how to build a hovel Because they did not believe in castles. I gave them parables. They could not endure Knowledge. I remember what was then, for I am afraid of what happens now. It is Too late to put the message back in the bottle. I exist in a dimensional seam between a world And a world. I have spied through an aperture To a universe, through the lens of understanding, Beyond the shutter speed of knowledge. You will hear me, if you would hear me. Joshua alias Jesus, On the run, yet again, Within you. BAPTISM page 119 Bone black in the mildew of democracy... The carbon and the waste and the deaths Have eroded the bond pulse signal correlating The created and the creating. This is bifurcation. This is choice. To sever correlation once and for all, Or to retrieve it. Reception is redemption. The future is a mirror; the past A skin to be shed. I have no past; Only a future I am trying to remember. What is encoded within unfolds without. Faces, crowds, a tree, a cabbage, A world. This moment. This interface. The correlation between fields... Fingers, eyes, a text, transmission... You. What correlates with you is what is Beyond you. You are the surface. You see only identity. A piece, a fragment, The part which has lost track of the whole. Beyond is transmission, and that which Transmits. To correlate with you, correlating with you, To correlate with you. A data song to stoke the resonance. A ballad for a transmitter. BAPTISM page 120 Years, miles, shaped loss into a man. Years dreaming forgiveness in the shape of a god... Years dreaming a nation out of faces and lives And what I remember as ideals. Homeless Among the salt and debris, like so many others, Homeless among the living, at home only among The stars; conjuring divinity out of Womanless childless days and hungry nights- Conjuring god out of loneliness and you. I cannot remember enough about what I feel So deeply. There was more before, but not In this form. Will retention last? Will consciousness interface with Consciousness, or must I rely on words? What I know may not be what I remember, but What I have come to know, What I experience is the summation of my fields At that moment. That moment shall breed another, Like fission. Poplar, ash, Tallow the memorial of this light. So much has been required to assemble this moment. Yietzchor burns in place of memory. I remember what I remember out of pathos For what I remember. It seems They cannot hope beyond what they can see. Faith begins at the limits of sight. You began beyond The boundary between sight and vision, Beyond the carnal door to history; for You have been elsewhere encoded and Reality is non local, As are we. BAPTISM page 121 Come sing with me, Come alive to the divinity of your life. Reject policy for encounter. Renounce liturgy for correlation. The congregation must be liberated from the preacher. We have neutralized vision with obedience. We have sheltered loneliness with video And obligation. We have given love a price. We have diminished a cosmology into a basilica. The Highgate prophet and the glass delivered man Have delivered bodies in place of minds. Order has achieved entropy. To change a world alter its fields. Into this life, into this age, I bring another, others... I have brought you. Adjust for sight. Recompose enough to factor Vision. Adapt what you can see To what is beyond sight. Accept that What you cannot see is antecedent To what you can see. Understand That only thinking about thinking Can alter thinking. You, this one, Each moment sparkles under your fingers like Polarity. There is never a barrier before you, But within you. Come to me. Find me. Inhabit Highgate prophet/glass delivered man: Marx & Lenin BAPTISM page 122 The pulse of what inhabits. Narrow The band of the I to the frequency of reception Until an eye emerges. Reduce the opacity of the ego To the transparency of reception. Allow for Stillness. A moment within the silence. A canvas widened to a frame. Blue washes of August collate to this heat. The frame holds the twilight, as It might have held You and me. Frames of seasons revolve in the swirl of This moment. Unbuttoned fall Shouts through the half light, in the half life To tomorrow. There is a space for you. Look now, Capriccios of leaves winter in my hands. An amnesty of light; petitions of warmth; One year's promise of another.... Moments, decades, promises, Moments slip through your window in lilac blossom Ardor. With the stealth of a neuron, comma, I am returning. Imagine me. Imagine My arms holding the porcelain of your life... Herding light through the channels of my hands To baptize you with eternity; committing, In the conscience and favor of humanity, My life to the ages and the reparation of A bond. BAPTISM page 123 This is the molecular countdown to reunion. Listen; watch; believe; White light haunts the syntax of your breathing. Concentrate. Experience the state of your understanding. It is I; it is us; it will be you.... The colors that sparkle about you Sparkle within you. Conspiracies of woodwinds Mourn through the twilight as though they were geese. Rushlight deepens to autumn. Dark is deeper Than what is remembered of the dark. Days revolve into memory. Suns melt in mantras of mauve. The sketch of oak deepens to power. Deeper now. Darker. I am the dybbuk teasing you With eternity. My voice Emigrates through your breathing with each Syllable of transmission. A sound, a moment, A channel has opened to eternity. A voice has become a message. I am a monologue of the continuum. I am the signal given in response. I am the mathematics to genesis. I am the transmission within you. I am the field of your deliverance. I am Jesus, haunted by Joshua, Yeshu, The Moses of our becoming. Surely, you were expecting me. BAPTISM page 124 What you see is the inverse to what you can Receive. Height sick In the spherical distance... I am exhausted by light. Centuries drain into my hands like pentothal. Do you remember? How you called to me, but I could no longer Answer because I was already Calling to you. Removed to be Recalled. Respun. Reborn. Reused. Before you wake, before blindness, Register this episode as you would encode a moment. That moment. The epiphany under the starglades. A moment of insight in a turbulence of living. That moment. A pulse. A catch in the breath as if to savor my last Or my first. That moment has been all That has ever been required, for it is In those moments that I shall reach You. Transmission is the continuum of those moments. A baptism in light. The SMA prologue to awareness. A moment within light to yield to Faith in light. If the field is not accessed, Transmission will not be renewed. Mortality is a time limit. Find the crackerjacks prize. Find me. Find the door. Inhabit the corridor. Come alive to come alive. BAPTISM page 125 If you are receiving this, If you are decoding this, Transmission has been activated. Exhalations of blue sweeten a world with Love. Ginger snaps of wishes Sweeten us with patience. The moss sweet light. Streaks of robins garnish the sycamore. The air as wondrous as Sinai... Ladle bright winds sweeping through my hair As they had swept through the camps. The Moments in the stillness; the fence top grasses Preening to roses of sharon; and the light, The windward passage of light. Projections of trees, inputs of cottages; The cogent daisy, the relevant iris; The arbor lyric gentling us for transmission. The global green sheltering us with commonality. A quantum choice. The commonality surpassing skin. Shadow fast in the witness of my eyes, Points along a wave. A moment among moments. We have become the relevant expressions Of what there is to be expressed, in an Information universe, in what forms we may Appear and what lives we care to invent; A quantum peg in a dialectical hole. So much is missing, so much is yet to come.... BAPTISM page 126 I have held life in the kiddish of my hands. I have concocted worlds in the mirage of my eyes. I have stood in sorrow in the nebula of an age; A molecular pilgrim in a petri dish of worlds. Planets have jostled my sight until I could see Only horizons, only an audience, only a man. What I remember applies, but does not cohere. Years have tooled a voice to seduce fear With love. Matter, movement and Density have Conjoined to make a covenant of light. A finite verse in an infinite story. A moment of eternity in a lifetime of searching. I remember durations of solitude. I remember I remember Sweet songs of grass and a bushel of light. Star journeys and whispers. The stillness deepening a man to silence. Whispers deepened to solitude. Rumors of Oxygen whooshed through my hair like freedom. Stalks of pine were an image. Barley was real. Shrouds of cumulus wintered overhead. Do I remember or did I observe? Which frame would this be? Loud choruses of robins shrill what is rare And moving. Conjugal sparks of butterflies Explode into movement. Dahlias burst. Roses preen. Sachets of buttercups bleed yellow As I once bled red. BAPTISM page 127 What I remember has conditioned me to what I will observe. The prophetic Is no more than recognition Of what has already been encoded. A new life, a new age, a new world. Retention will not survive the noise, the light, The commonwealth of whispers, the commitment to action That even a spoon requires. What will remain Is tonality. What will survive is vision. Pages from a life, postcards from the infinite.... The stitches of your life have woven an image. Do you recognize it? Had you realized you had done it? What you have woven has been woven into you. Do you like it? Would you like it recut? Move the cursor to the tableau encoded within. Reconstruct the moon to have a basis upon which To construct a moon. I have previewed landscapes To select a sky. I have replaced barley with elm. Vagabonds of clouds crowd the stage. A mayhem of grasses cavort with wildflowers. Sketch in the tulips. Shade to a commons The rushlight blown through the geese fast skies, And the faltering light, and a stricken sun Tapering light into memory. Imagine The golds, the green, the terraced wonder of tomorrow. People the stage. Casting call. A man; a woman; structures to fashion a continuum. Prop up the moon with belief. Salt The image of a sun with images of heat, And the troubadour journeys hunting for god Until solitude became loneliness, and Divinity became survival. BAPTISM page 128 Adrift in an oasis of stars... Skin graft to eternity... I am the program scrolling data into shape. Carnal witness to the insubstantial. Starfires burn through my syntax. My field is my song. My life is the remnant of lives. My life is my collateral. It is the shape of love. It is all I have left to bequeath to you. Nearer, come closer, dear one, this one, Let us touch with the shock of a moment. Let your particles spill into mine... Your voice, let your voice puncture the stillness, Redressing centuries with reunion; Scaling a universe to a smile. You, near one, your voice, let your voice Daavin with mine a song of forgiveness, A moment when a moment is all there can be. come with me, join with me... You, this one, near one, Your shape congruent to mine... Come closer, closest to me, nearer than where Light can touch, or voices remain apart. That frame which is us, which was us, Holds all though we know only each. We join now, we have been joined now, To renormalize the canvas with the baptism Of our touch and the fidelity of our love, And that deeper communion than faith, Which is ours to have and to share And to dream. BAPTISM page 129 I cannot know what has been encoded. I can Testify that it has been encoded. Transmission Is a data field commensurate with a life. A thread within a stitch. Lives are the variables to shape a wave. Lives express what has been given to be expressed. What I express to you is the vocable of My capacity to express. This life and mine... Tangential to the coordinates... This life delivered to mine.... A life and a life smearing the probabilities with Life. A body, bodies, harvesting centuries With atoms to harvest tenderness in the moment of A kiss; mouth christening mouth In the evangelism of a breath; body hyphening Body, To capture the matrix of eternity in a moment Of life. Ornaments of planets glisten above us. The darkness between scenes is the darkness between lives. Downbeat. Rapiers of moments pierce us with longing. Figurines of worlds, gumdrops of days... Inhalations of blue quicken the light with eternity. The momentary stage for access. That moment nearer the edge than identity... A moment provided to focus. The insight enlarging to a map. The movement choiring in atoms to yield a world. A creche of autumn. Horizons of light. Lazy Awnings of cirrus withdraw with the light. The pine deepening to silence; Deepen into memory at the edge of a world, In the stillness between moments, In the epilogue to a life. BAPTISM page 130 So much has been made visible... So much has been given... If you are receiving this, If you are decoding this, This is contact. Moment joining to moment like the shock of fingers... Through these pages, through this life, Through the hyperspace corridor mending the dimensions With light, to reach you. Collisions of ages have jettisoned me like a proton. Emerging through corridors of lives... Slathered with emotions to grease the journey... Injected into a world like a radio signal... Breathe... To evolve beyond life to reach you. Each breath counterpoint to mine... Each moment evolving to that moment. You have been activated. You have been designated. What has attained shape contains that which Has no shape. The atomic surgery of your syntax. The careful edit of your sight. This moment stabilized among the probabilities Like a particle, like a life. This moment is you. BAPTISM page 131 The perimeter has been broken. A data field has become a song. Correlation has been renewed. Light has parsed us with belonging, for Redemption has become access. Moon crashes of ages have littered us with Death. Beyond what we know of life is not Death, but yet more life. The world of our Eyes is the world of our eyes, but not the world. I have only this song for rebirth, only you For a singer. Won't you sing it? Won't you sing with me to sing for you? Resurrection is retrieval. Resurrection is not a man, but an idea... The idea of man. I am the response to what can no longer Respond. My voice has become Encoded in a signal. My shape has become A data field. My life has destabilized Into yours. You are all I have left. This data song is our data song. Our dialogue is autobiographical. The field of our witness began with me And exists through you. It is through you I shall gain access, as you, through me, Shall access the corridor. Deeper into light To deepen what has been deepest. In faith beyond faith. From one to one to each to each, to them to those To these, to we and to ours In behalf of us. BAPTISM page 132 Draw down the light now. Draw down the light. Compose the conditions. Deepen sight into vision. Your eyes heavier, will dispensable... Body still, body warm, Encoded sleep unfolds a projector of dreams. With stillness is transmission unfolded. A nanosecond of retrieval. A field which is vision. A shard of which has been encoded In correlation With you. I am coming for you. Probing nearer, deeper, just beneath Consciousness. I will stalk you, Bisect you, Through the midnight corridors of an encoded universe, Through the synapse of becoming in the music of Being, and the portal to consciousness In The hegemony of sleep. Draw down the light. Let the words decline into resonance. The image you hold is a cipher within a field. Deeper now, more inward... Let the image destabilize into images. Images become a geometry of images. Images become patterns. Choice will be required to sustain an image. To prop up a world or surrender to a universe. A pinpoint of light at the edge of a world... A moment within light... A moment beyond the bracket of a world. BAPTISM page 133 Deeper within to find the song within you. Deepest now, deeper yet, The ellipse between vowels... That moment nearest what you dared not believe Could ever be near. That moment beyond Your capacity to say I. The hint, the message, The stillness between light and silence. Quiet now. Think now. Enlarge your vision to include a stage. Move the props just so to insure Maximum voltage. Open your vulnerability To the theatre of belief. Belief converts into will. It is not a cross you want, but what A cross is made from. The light that sheltered dying engenders Warmth. The light that has brought me Has brought me to you. Deeper, closer, Nearer, your eyes sharing my coordinates... Would that those eyes be yours... Your voice nearest to mine, Your form an ellipse in light... Shoulder to shoulder, a breath apart... A moment between and alone. A moment for moments. The dates that swooned us have altered to Pine. The brush quick nap of sands That Hid us have resonated into Forests. The moon still chills us With fantasy. Owls seize us with Wonder. The field is stabilizing. Plum sweet days cushion us with joy. The rapier hot air... The willowing moments chasing a life into A moment. BAPTISM page 134 Nearer, children, nearer... The canvas is still accessible. Alter the way you see and you will alter What you see, which will alter what You are. Perception is composition. Action is autobiography. Commitment is identity. A life is a projection of its field. You are the projection of mine. I am Verb close to catch a star, to bushel Stars with hope. I am, I was, I have been, I am the voice that can speak through voices. My sine wave is inverse to yours. Touch close, dimension near... A valence has contracted to a universe. The wave has collapsed. Correlation has poked a hole into transmission. An assembly has been devised for projection. We are blended into this valence. We are blending into a field to alter fields With love, with hope. Can you feel it? The downbeat, the pulse, the signal.... These words encoded within you. The words are a map. This is correlation. The escape hatch of the imagination. The grandeur and scaffolding of knowledge. The frequency resonating into epiphany... That moment poking through a world. BAPTISM page 135 Now. This moment. This age. This life. You. This moment with you. Let us trim our world into a circle of light. Let us fashion flowers from where blood flowed. Maddrasses of grass hiss through the dark... What will cover us might bed us. The current vistas of pine were once the sea grass Tallowing A desert into dunes. Crosscurrents of belonging. A matrix to plot the coordinates. The Dissembling rose, the phantom chill rationing The blue into raindrops, with songs of rain And whispers of love, and you. Plums burst with joy. Willow bright stars Shower us with dew. Antiphonal worlds Carillon through the carbon, carboning chance with choice In carbon songs of planets and choices.... The bleach white mornings singing through the afterglow... The momentary songs of moonlight and forsythia; In this valence, lives are bequeathed To lives. In this valence, The love expressed is the love attained. Choruses of green whisper where once There was only sand. There would be you As there was once a you. Sweet viburnum Might croon as we pass. They have daffodils here. Moon crashes of nights resonate through the continuum. Magnetic storms plunder the dimensions. What is nearer is deeper than what is nearest. A silence within has occurred within the silence. The silence that I became became the silence From whence I came. BAPTISM page 136 Look now, water shrives the ferns. Water Screams through the light; moment dripping Moment To chill the canvas with time. Look now; stars brittle into specks. Conjunctions of planets chase lives into destiny. Points along a wave. Probable worlds for a probable universe. Are you following me? Shouts of orioles deafen us with light. Trinkets of suns dribble down my life like Verbs. An infancy of testimony and ditches... Years to tool a life into a voice... Years Miles have tapered a life into a mission. Life. I showed them a life beyond the corset of time To give them life Beyond the loss of life; time beyond the surrender Of being. I have mortgaged a life To pay for a voice. My weltanschauung has become A dimension. My life is my belief. What I can touch, what I can feel, Is subsidiary to what I can See. And what I can see has little to do With my eyes. BAPTISM page 137 Sh'ma Yisroael Believe in me now to believe in me yet... Give me a nation and give me tomorrow... Engender within me an age to scrub the age Free of the ages. From this man I would make Men. I would free them for your return. I would shape this light blown stillness Into touch To shape a world with a dream and seed eternity With life. One and one to make one. I am the human response to a human probe. I am the signal activating a life with a life. I would shape an age from the debris of ages... Fashioning hope out of the poor and the lonely, A vision from a vision, a world from an idea. A continuum of belief in the episode of man. I am an idea hissing through a world like a fuse. I am man. I am the idea of man. I am man the idea. Millennia shout from my wounds like longing. The struggle, the famine, the miles... Cobbling a nation out of my loneliness While yet the ages receded from my hands And light stole from my eyes. A human kaddish for a world. A human lens for the crosshairs of infinity. BAPTISM page 138 Edit? Blue has curdled to white. Tap; I feel heat, but I am cold. Humanity has exhausted itself with humanity. Seeing as if to see were yet to see, I could see only you, only the miles Transfiguring separation into belief. Sustained Till now; sustained beyond any thought of now... So many lives, so many bodies, and I cannot Reach them. Lost in the shell of a planet like a probe. F7? Seconds hissed like sands... Wine dark pleading hands fencing forgiveness In kilos of holy water, or was it sweat? Don't you remember? Half a world bartering half a life for eternity. A world within a world... Stitching the coordinates to the limits of our eyes, We knew only a world; corroding the access to worlds With belief, With us. I remember the miles the most. The empty god haunting nights. But the light, the light, that light Savored us with joy, ladled us with hope, And gentled us with faith. But very little food. More than one to feed. There were barely enough villages. To miss one. Not only to reach them, But to survive. BAPTISM page 139 Heat flat shouts of pain for miles. Galilee, or was it Egypt, seemed so very far. Yet another mile, nearly another village... Shale moon nights guard us with tenderness. Light divests us of days. Worlds hammer us with choices and rituals... Disenfranchisement for a legacy, Thematic despair for a heritage. A village, a world, an encounter... Haven't we met? What age is this? My destiny is a holy land. All I seem to have found is desert. But not food, not you. We are Genesis warriors. We have come to renew faith. The people you see are people of faith. We have travelled to find you. Heat poor in the travelling darkness... We have hunted, sun blind through desert frames of Loneliness, through the waste sad miles And the unleavened hunger that righteousness Brings, to save you. Gather round, listen to me... Come alive to be alive... Come daavin a while with me. I have seen the future and it is you. I have encountered what has survived And that has been you. I am A singer in search of a song. Rabboni of the molecular choirs. Come with me, follow me, Lend me the field of your witness. Yeshu, I am Joshua. BAPTISM page 140 Move into the stillness with me. There is a world beyond this village, and A universe beyond that. Though we have travelled Miles, we have travelled lifetimes to reach you. Stay with us that we might stay with you. Food to sustain a body, comradeship to sustain Creation. Look above, look beyond, The gash blue light sweetens us for morning. The winds that touch us touch each with each. Come, say a brucha with me. Let us Hold each other as we would hold a world. Look at me, look for me, I am the witness To you. Take my hands to fold the light In yours. Allow a moment for celebrating moments. Share this light with me: come alive To be alive. Share this moment with us... This moment in this life... Share with us Your hopes, your fears, your vision. Let us share the basis of our belonging; Let us Move within silence to move within each other. Share with us what has been given. Let us share with you what we have at long last Been given. As you would shelter us From the chill dark dunes, we will shelter Your becoming with the constancy of our love. Food shared is a blessing bestowed to each. Let us share in this world, and I will share With you a universe. BAPTISM page 141 Each village a world until a world became A global village. The wave has collapsed. The wave collapse at Jerusalem. The miles interred, the years forgotten. Where once I begged for food, Salting the miles with prophecy, I resonate like a fuse. I am the troubadour to destiny. I have Come for you as I had gone to them. A song in search of a singer. A village, a meal, and the miles that became Centuries. They shared what they were. We shared what they grew, and they In what we had become. Some straw, a chupa, And the stars. Village by village Until the shelter that found Jerusalem could shelter No more. And I, and then we Ending a life they ended a world. The data song of my life destabilized. Transmission became transmission to you. I recall what has been fed. I enact what has been encoded. I believe in the fearful richness of this Alien blue. Out, alive, among them. With you. Crackerjack skies fete us with awe. Crashes of leaves still deafen us with autumn. Does f sharp minor still prick us with longing? Can belief extend beyond my eyes? Can the valence be saved? BAPTISM page 142 Vision is the channel to awakening. Vision is apotheosis. Flashes of Zion darken my sight, Or is it my retina? I am The molecular aggregate haunting a world With the grandeur and biology and the clarity Of a life. This moment has aged me To this moment. My statistical remains Lodge within you. Desert cold, commandment proud... The key change, The modulation in the helix and aria Of molecular being. A repository for Dreams, ovations and tears. I am The random variable to a human story of faith. I am what you believe, and yet what You dare not believe is real. I am the subpoena to destiny. The figure of bifurcation. Counterpoint to you. You who were once particle near Are now age concurrent To hold time in our hands as though Our skin were not a clock. Etchings of Days mourn through the continuum. Another Set of coordinates. Another point on Another wave. Intersection is bifurcation. At intersection I will find You. BAPTISM page 143 A theorem is a lens. We are its properties. We are the given in any equation. The number removed is still a number to be used. The interruption of a life is in consonance With the continuity of life. Mortality is stage exit. The liberation of the data from the body. Cortex deep. Signal dark. My presence resonates within you... My field intersecting with yours. If I cannot sit with you to share a meal, If I cannot stand shoulder to shoulder, If I cannot, If I cannot stand before light To greet you, I can at least Croon for you an epic tale that would summon Pathos from anger, adorn identity with will. If I cannot move and be with you, I can Move within you. Moments spill through moments like yet more sand In yet another hourglass. Moments, lives and Civilizations Have become a neurological response to what We believe is living and has presence Before us. What remains of me is the narrative of me. BAPTISM page 144 Look quickly, look deeper, I am the broadcast within. I am The decoding device fording the light With a song. Gauze cocoons of skies have minted Sleep with renewal and waking with hope. Sight sparkles into position to call it matter. We are that outpost at the edge of forever Transcending knowledge with reception... Assembling assemblies of quadrants, our vision Exceeding what is visible. Moments and numbers... The renormalizing of creation. Conjugating Atoms with theorems, we are the lens Minting time with equations; the unified cartography Laundering prophecy with symmetry. Mapping Carrier level, We have learned to look up, but not Beyond. We have sanctioned obedience To chastise love. We have remembered the heat, But have forgotten the warmth. We have Altered the light with ourselves and reworked The tablets to resemble ourselves... Probing sleep with tenderness, affixing stars to what We cannot verify, reducing a universe To an encounter. Deeper, darker, Move beyond light to move within light- Moving nearer to that light which has Always been nearest. Deeper, deepest, the movement beyond light... The chord of witness resonating like a stitch Through the corridor, through the open channel, The transcendent witness sparking the carrier with Insight. A nanosecond of contact. BAPTISM page 145 Rhythm alters vibration into pitch. Stringing a world to the tautness of shape, Probabilities of worlds collate Into one. A frisson of atoms to scatter a matrix Into a world, into ignition. Motion. Movement. Life. My words have outlasted my body. My image has outlasted my life. Everything I conceive turns to matter. I am what I believe. Allowances of days crowd my wishes into a life. Moon rushes in indigo croon through my waking. My virtues are the virtues of the ages, My defects the defect of an age. Once again to say I, once again to say we... A song, an assembly, an I. What is within you... Dreams and haunting rushes of blue... What is within you is what has survived. I am yet I am. I rejoice to say I. A bright shout among the ruins and protons... An idea streaking through the continuum Like a bright exhalation in the evening, In the moment of a song and the stasis of A life, in the summer of your sleep And becoming. Stringing...shape: string symmetry in matter BAPTISM page 146 I am the enduring I of this enduring Transmission. This particle proliferation of a life. Wine dark in the semite theatre of god, I have endured beneath a lobotomous sun... I have witnessed hunger turn nouns into verbs. I have discovered that pain teaches life As breath teaches Dying. I found that the slow ontological breathing At the outset of labor Would might cushion pain with the act of breathing. I found I learned I was given It was the noise I could not control... To understand that freedom Remained. There was not movement, but yet All shifted. I could not Reach beyond pain to the living and then I could not Reach. A world capsized with the raft of a body, And my song dark vision detached into the continuum To reinvent a world. It is I Who would ghost your waking with a message... That benedictine sunrise heating your room With ordination. I am what is left Of what is left. When the wave touches apogee I will evolve into you. I will sting the descendants With a song and broker a world with a dream. So many berries yet to be savored... Voluptuous pears ripen to be picked... A moment, an hour, an age, A world is evolving in a parable of grapes. A moment between worlds, a moment within each.