Ceremony Ek Stasis - Minsk

And a moment of gifting passes through what once was identity

In a movement beyond truth and falsity I can sense them in the mountains

On either side of every side

Basking in the seething sun this flesh conjures the infinite mind

While well worn pillars of objectivity collapse as if blown asunder

By the blameless pawns of poets ecstatically exhuming treasures of forgotten

grace

The in-betweens surpassing their localities this grey disease reproducing

The weapons forever unleashed stockpiled with lies of every kind

There is a season a time to die

And the word games end as the clock thunders by and the rain sears this pain

As my streams keep running dry