agapi

A hand full of air

Something stirring 

A cautious hover 

Over a breaking smile 

gratitude spills 

tumbling over the reverently held ether 

life lives here, moistened with 

Blood, sweat, Tears and rain 

Every fall a rise 

Like the breath of providence 

A dip left 

A twist right 

the rhythm of life inspires dance,

Poetry, art, music and song  

Like air slipping over chords

Sacred Verbage 

Vibration 

Your hands are never empty 

There is no void, 

There is only the appearance of nothing 

Which by the mere thought is even something 

So grab on tight!

Even when it seems there is no thing

it really is something, isn't it? 

Oh what we see, be and do when nothing is impossible! 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Yes, yes you can! 

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In contrasts to your darkness and light is your will to live

Folder: 
Humanity

 

From the coals of sacred texts, brought fouth from ancient whispers of a circle of unbroken time, dipping and acendinding its change state, as the one constant in unending continuity. Therein lies a simple truth, corrupted with gentle persuasion. 

 

The state of being, the being of state and status of beings. 

There are three main laws for us to purview and avail here and now, or in past and future possibility. There is one rule that seperates, yet, reconsiles and is master of all truth; ugly or beautiful it renders life in death, death  into life and life into death. 

 

to live evil live to  - live.d.evil

to Evo L ovE to 

 

The cycle that never alters its identity making Its mood known in all forms and states; the All as in the We collective; and as the I; AGAPI, the known mystery of presiding over both and the first of the third.

 

Go.d  and evil.

 

Live with the hidden truth in plain sight. Felt  with intense realness,  hidden in semantics of languages  long lost and forgotten,  but none is needed to unless seeking to corrupt the incorruptible what is known and fails in explanation.

 

For  this very reason,  the logic of AGAPI (love) in all its moods, colours, ugliness and beauty fail to be described. And still, the poets' pride tries in vain to capture the whole.  Ever so often though, glimpses resonate and we can see a temporal portal with the promise of the indescribable known.

 

Blessingss

Author's Notes/Comments: 

For the few temporal and literal scholars here who might find something of interest here. Blessings and Hugss 

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