Continuums

Grace is presenting itself these days as continuums; Oneness in dual-drag.

Good and evil aren't two monoliths on mountains facing each other;
They are bricks of the monoliths -

Melting up from the mountain
Flowing down to the valley between

A giant U
Now connected, forging stars and famines
Now collapsing,
In on It-self

Joy and sadness are not lilac and the throat-clench of forced surrender
But black and gossamer silk
Sliding through the very layers that birthed it

Bright madness and dark lucidity
The always-fresh forgotten

Paradox
Losing syllables, form and finally content

Into the curve before line
The space before point


This.