figured in the drift of stars

Good morning, sleeper.

"In the city of the body, the fires of life are burning."

May your fire burn pure & your will subside, as dawn puts the predator to rest and daylight reveals flame's entrails - hidden smoke and whispering steam..

Surrender is the only path to conjoin fully with the pulsing veins of our unified root. The digger wounds the tree. The arborist applies category to his own likeness (a little death). See your bloodwork figured in the movement of sap. Acknowledge your waste figured in the dripping ichor...

"The dance along the artery

The circulation of the lymph

Are figured in the drift of stars

Ascend to summer in the tree

We move above the moving tree

In light upon the figured leaf

And hear upon the sodden floor

Below, the boarhound and the boar

Pursue their patterns as before

But reconciled among the stars."

To be transfigured into the inherent symmetry, conformed to the deepest of natures and highest of beings - daily, a churn. Weekly, a rhythm. Monthly, an epoch. Over a life, sheet music unfurled to meet and crumple under a bloody hand in its blind searching. The harmony of the spheres brings recompense to my tears.

It is a blessed day. I trace the movement of vision over my skin - an interaction I can't begin to comprehend! Read again aloud, feel the beat in the words. Lectio Divina. Even Augustine thought man was mad for reading silently.

Inner coherence of prepositional claims is a watered down faith. Be embodied and animated by love and peace. "This is the law and the prophets."

"Those who plan peace have joy." Joyful are you beautiful sun! Peace exists in the coordination of all things. Look at the small and you will find endless infighting. Death the divine exhaust, scattering souls that become fuel for some greater way.

Hope rests on top of the mound of our beliefs. When the beliefs are perturbed, we should expect hope to wake and toss and turn until finding better position for deeper rest.

A higher hope, once held, spoils all lower hopes.

"Thou art pure, O Life, supreme see, lord and consumer of all. We, the givers of what thou enjoyest, thou, our father, the breath of all life.

Be favorable unto us, O Life, with that invisible form of thine which is in the voice, the eye, and the ear, and which lives in the mind. Go not from us.

In thy power is all this world and even the third most sacred heaven. As a mother her child, protect us, Oh Life: give us glory and give us wisdom."

I can avoid the hardness of the material by wandering about in prose. Nevertheless, I am here in body carrying promises in my mind to be kind today, to follow through on my obligations, and to ascend to greater responsibilities.

Love is the soul's soul! It is there I touch oneness! Agape is identity of creator and expression of union.

Today I get to launch photons from my sand machine - catalyzing electromagnetic connection through deeply buried metal. Photons bounce back and forth between satellite and antenna, receiver and conductor. This intensifies in speed beyond my sight until a being emerges into 2 dimensions, painted on my cathode array!! A miracle!!! In other words, I have a video call in 4 minutes but I'm still in my poetic mood that strikes every now and again.

It's a call with my old boss. We always talk about the nature of consciousness, the complexity of religion & family (he is ex-mormon), and mountain biking.

He, like many men, is hesitant to make a bid for connection. To make a desire for intimacy known. It's risky! What if your bid isn't accepted? Will you be able to live with yourself you poor reject? Did you know the reject is the wholest? You must let your life trickle into others, even as they put up dams.

When I'm brave (rarely), bids explode out of me. 1/10 is accepted. 1/100 changes my life. All of them teach me something.

I love watching long grass blow in the wind. Air is so secretive, but when enough little follicles are being moved you can make out wind’s form and intentions.

I trust its intentions. I don't know why.

This journal entry is pretty enough to put on my website I think. Hello world.

I joined a groupchat yesterday where everyone was sending their nicely curated, portfolio-esque personal websites. That ain't me. I want to bleed in public and be half shaped all the time. Even the most profound "it is finished" is said before the real work is done. The dying and preaching in hell and coming back and laying foundation for new life. So, I don't think I'll ever say it or pretend like my anything is finished.

I like to throw out an intention and let it become something new over time. Slowly, I'll add a word or a thought when I'm moved. Over time the subject takes a shape I never would've imagined initially. It's a luxury to be able to operate that way. I only take that approach with the domains of life that can afford it.

Alright, that's all for the morning. Love you Joe. Go make family and forgiveness today. (forgiveness in the structural sense - "fore" "give" - give before people deserve)