vision

Though it is extremely unfashionable this day and age to live in the realm of mythopoetry, I do so. I walk within the world that Jesus walked where miracles are ordinary and the ordinary is miraculous. I open to a cosmos thrumming with life, taking shape in strangely familiar personification. All, all is family: the singing of angels, the curses of the disgruntled, the soundings of the spheres; each with its place in this cosmic drama. All are within and within is also without and knows no bounds. If this is strange to you, take heed how strange is a world not seeing that objective law floats on a sea of subjectivity, like a pip within its shell not seeing beyond its eggish head, nor condescending to notice what hen warms its hatch.