6.17.10

hands lifted. i look out, serene, upon the vista of blakc, purple, gold an pale wine. the sunset--sunrise?--is beauteous, but another vision captures my attention--for i see, i see a great host descending from on high, and soon i know i will join their blessed number--those who have known what it it to become the god, to be his wine, to be his bread.

i raised my hands and the world pivoted. i shall return to this rocky outpost--this vista where th eworlds unfold and the skies roll back and the deep things of the world are exposed to my piercing gaze.

for though my legs tremble, my arms are of steel. and my heart, my mind, my loins--they are in accord, they fear not, and they look, greedily, for what is next.