is your moment of awaking from dream, the gate through
which sleeping beauty awakes. This is life, from
outside it. This is death, from which life emerges.
This is the distant future rejoining the distant past,
your gravestone, centre of gravity. This is the site
of the birth-death of consciousness. This is the land
from before time.
Behold these marvellous prisms of stone, these are the
division and unification of that which is lighter than
light's seven constituents, the crossing of numerals
and minerals. These are your three principle seeds.
Your first and last form, the navel, the fixed axis
upon which the worlds rotate. Here are the hinges of
time - time stilled, and thus reversed. This city
embodies your universal law of becoming, because
through it it became - perfected thought in perfected
form, the perfect thought form. Even your most
unnatural creations are nature's because nature
creates you. Even the decline of your civilisation is
willed through you. The process you call growth,
inscribed most simply in the prism, is but the seven
tiered decomposition that all born obeys - both your
inner world as an individual and your outer world as a
race. You are self-destructing. All that is mortal in
you will die so that which is immortal can be free.
The prism contains all that you, as a man will come to
know in order to be a man no longer. These are the
fruits of the orient, the pillars of consciousness."
|Silent Songs||337||John Carlo||17-Oct-01 19:34|