9.9.09.b

all light and melodious ambrosia flows from the divine essence into the lesser iternations. and all dance. all rejoice at the exstacy of living. all rejoice because there is no end. the song for them is eternal. all their ecstacies are but a drop in the pool of their collective consciousness, which is as an ocean, eternal, all-encompassing. their love for us is genuine, but their minds are too great to hold us in their thoughts tooo closely. i am happy to be along for the ride, though.

god. you have my permission, such as it is, to do as you will. let they divine power flow througyh me, although it is difficult for a human to withstand your immensity. i fly, i float, i arise through the ethers to your blessedness.

when last i saw a flower
more blood and closer it flowed to heart and mind
and worries not had i
and time was inexhaustible, as was my strength
and the old and weak i pitied.

when last i saw a flower i laughed
for i was more beautiful and more puissant
for worries not had i
no lady fair need i woo nor child dandle
and work a future far away and amicable in its imaginings

when last is saw a flower i cried not
to see children cry or old men's eyes so weepy;
my eyes were dry, dry as bone, for my life and mind and heart were untrammeled.

when last i saw a flower i sniffed,
for i knew that armies and muscle prevail over such frivolities as petals and sunshine;
i believed in strength and i wanted some for myself.

yet now,

if i ever see a flower again, i shall be abashed
for my strength has seeped into nothingness, my heroes disgraced.
my dreams tattered beyond recognition,
and toil my only relief from the peace of hearth and home.

if i ever see a flower again, i shall weep, for i die, and it remains.