textfiles/occult/CHRISTIAN/b3.txt

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THE GENESIS GOSPEL
by David Kornblum

Volume 3: BAPTISM: file #4 of 6.
                   GG.5B3
     

THE GENESIS FOUNDATION
6928 Deer Springs Road
Keystone Heights, Fl 32656
(904) 473-7713
Modem #: (904) 473-0252

BAPTISM page 116



Come to me, come with me, if only
For the moment of these pages and the instant
Of our touch. Come alive with me...
Come alive to remain alive. 
Come alive in this patient lullaby of light.
Come alive
In fulfillment of a life, to sanctify life
In the miracle of a life. The poignance of a life.
The brevity, the nuance, the flare of a
Life. Imagine
The chill cold taste of morning...
Arctic preambles at the edge of life...
Moving a life nearer to a life.
Believe with me for a moment
Great hungry mornings, deep famished blue,
The corn so ripe the kernels weep like gravity....
An invoice of cold, a pocket of stars...
The Aristotelian majesty of your sight.
The electrons singing just beneath consciousness....
Imagine such a viewer to be co-creator,
The observer interfacing with the observed.
This one, it is this one whom I would 
Have you believe. It is you.
More than togetherness, it is a specie.
More than coexistence, we are correlated.
Worlds, probabilities, 
Converge with each breath. Crab moon nights
And desolate days: blue has congealed to gray.
Moments commit to a moment.
Come dance with me, come linger awhile with me...
Shouts of wind chorus the wind at my back. 
Clouds pop like tympani. Wet sweet songs
Whoosh through your window. Tapestries
Of green chisel the light into tears. 
Miles through the haunting stillness.
And I am home.

BAPTISM page 117



Miles, or was it

Years?

An exodus and an exit.
Millennia compressed to a frame.
Compressed between a moment and a moment
In a nanosecond of motion. In one age and another.
A fleet of somedays, a port of maybes.
Begging nouns for verbs.
Haunting the cosmos with the mission of my hands.
So many lives to reach you.
Years whitened my beard with hope.
A circumference shrunk to a nucleus.
And then a noose.
An I became an eye.
And then an age. And then
One day, one life,
I spoke.

I cannot be sure what happened.

I know they cannot know.

The bone shattering light.
The radiance stopping speech with a sigh.
The magisterial interface beyond sight.
The stillness. A silence saturating being
Like prayer. The inwardness. The reach.
The wonder. The incandescent lens.
The horizon of my faith blossoming into a world.
But not this world. But not the losses.
But not the pain, nor the loneliness.

BAPTISM page 118



Not these things that have burned a path
To you. Nor the ages salting my words with
Ideology. I know now you could not be reached
Any other way. This is bifurcation.
My words will no longer be spoken through others...
They shall be spoken through you.

I have only a song to bequeath you.

I have only a tale to use as my instrument.
The lives, the miles, the hopes, the dreams.
Exits, emigration, exile and tears.
I know that at the end I was alone.
All I remember is the fatigue.
It is not a life I remember, but a journey.
Winter long and bread poor...
What I remember to be years deepened my eyes 
With miles. I gave them peace.
They defended it with war. I gave them love.
They squandered it on skin. I gave them
Freedom. They tyrannized it with dogma.
I taught them how to build a hovel 
Because they did not believe in castles.
I gave them parables. They could not endure
Knowledge. I remember what was then, for 
I am afraid of what happens now.
It is 
Too late to put the message back in the bottle.
I exist in a dimensional seam between a world
And a world. I have spied through an aperture
To a universe, through the lens of understanding,
Beyond the shutter speed of knowledge.
You will hear me, if you would hear me.
Joshua alias Jesus, 
On the run, yet again,
Within you.

BAPTISM page 119



Bone black in the mildew of democracy...
The carbon and the waste and the deaths
Have eroded the bond pulse signal correlating
The created and the creating.
This is bifurcation. This is choice.
To sever correlation once and for all,
Or to retrieve it.

Reception is redemption.

The future is a mirror; the past 
A skin to be shed. I have no past;
Only a future I am trying to remember.
What is encoded within unfolds without.
Faces, crowds, a tree, a cabbage,
A world. This moment. This interface.
The correlation between fields...
Fingers, eyes, a text, transmission...
You. What correlates with you is what is
Beyond you. You are the surface. 
You see only identity. A piece, a fragment,
The part which has lost track of the whole.
Beyond is transmission, and that which
Transmits.

To correlate with you, correlating with you,
To correlate with you.

A data song to stoke the resonance.

A ballad for a transmitter.

BAPTISM page 120



Years, miles, shaped loss into a man.
Years dreaming forgiveness in the shape of a god...
Years dreaming a nation out of faces and lives
And what I remember as ideals. Homeless
Among the salt and debris, like so many others,
Homeless among the living, at home only among 
The stars; conjuring divinity out of
Womanless childless days and hungry nights-
Conjuring god out of loneliness and you.

I cannot remember enough about what I feel 
So deeply. There was more before, but not
In this form. Will retention last?
Will consciousness interface with
Consciousness, or must I rely on words?

What I know may not be what I remember, but 
What I have come to know,
What I experience is the summation of my fields
At that moment. That moment shall breed another,
Like fission. Poplar, ash, 
Tallow the memorial of this light.
So much has been required to assemble this moment.
Yietzchor burns in place of memory.
I remember what I remember out of pathos 
For what I remember. It seems
They cannot hope beyond what they can see.
Faith begins at the limits of sight.
You began beyond 
The boundary between sight and vision,
Beyond the carnal door to history; for  
You have been elsewhere encoded and
Reality is non local,
As are we.


BAPTISM page 121



Come sing with me,

Come alive to the divinity of your life.

Reject policy for encounter.
Renounce liturgy for correlation.
The congregation must be liberated from the preacher.
We have neutralized vision with obedience.
We have sheltered loneliness with video
And obligation. We have given love a price.
We have diminished a cosmology into a basilica.
The Highgate prophet and the glass delivered man
Have delivered bodies in place of minds.
Order has achieved entropy.
To change a world alter its fields.

Into this life, into this age,

I bring another, others...

I have brought you. 

Adjust for sight. Recompose enough to factor
Vision. Adapt what you can see 
To what is beyond sight. Accept that
What you cannot see is antecedent 
To what you can see. Understand
That only thinking about thinking
Can alter thinking. You, this one,
Each moment sparkles under your fingers like
Polarity. There is never a barrier before you,
But within you. Come to me. Find me.
Inhabit 













Highgate prophet/glass delivered man: Marx & Lenin





BAPTISM page 122



The pulse of what inhabits. Narrow
The band of the I to the frequency of reception
Until an eye emerges. Reduce the opacity of the ego
To the transparency of reception. Allow for
Stillness. A moment within the silence.
A canvas widened to a frame.
Blue washes of August collate to this heat.
The frame holds the twilight, as 
It might have held
You and me. 
Frames of seasons revolve in the swirl of 
This moment. Unbuttoned fall
Shouts through the half light, in the half life
To tomorrow. There is a space for you.
Look now,  
Capriccios of leaves winter in my hands.
An amnesty of light; petitions of warmth;
One year's promise of another....
Moments, decades, promises,
Moments slip through your window in lilac blossom
Ardor. With the stealth of a neuron, comma,
I am returning. Imagine me. Imagine
My arms holding the porcelain of your life...
Herding light through the channels of my hands
To baptize you with eternity; committing, 
In the conscience and favor of humanity,
My life to the ages and the reparation of
A bond.


BAPTISM page 123



This is the molecular countdown to reunion.

Listen; watch; believe;

White light haunts the syntax of your breathing.
Concentrate. Experience the state of your understanding.
It is I; it is us; it will be you....
The colors that sparkle about you
Sparkle within you. Conspiracies of woodwinds
Mourn through the twilight as though they were geese.
Rushlight deepens to autumn. Dark is deeper
Than what is remembered of the dark.
Days revolve into memory.
Suns melt in mantras of mauve.
The sketch of oak deepens to power.
Deeper now. Darker. I am the dybbuk teasing you
With eternity. My voice 
Emigrates through your breathing with each 
Syllable of transmission. A sound, a moment,
A channel has opened to eternity.
A voice has become a message.
I am a monologue of the continuum.
I am the signal given in response.
I am the mathematics to genesis.
I am the transmission within you.
I am the field of your deliverance.
I am Jesus, haunted by Joshua,
Yeshu, 
The Moses of our becoming.

Surely, you were expecting me.


BAPTISM page 124



What you see is the inverse to what you can
Receive. Height sick 
In the spherical distance...
I am exhausted by light.
Centuries drain into my hands like pentothal.
Do you remember?
How you called to me, but I could no longer
Answer because I was already
Calling to you. Removed to be
Recalled. Respun. Reborn.
Reused.

Before you wake, before blindness,

Register this episode as you would encode a moment.
That moment. The epiphany under the starglades.
A moment of insight in a turbulence of living.
That moment. A pulse.
A catch in the breath as if to savor my last
Or my first. That moment has been all
That has ever been required, for it is
In those moments that I shall reach 
You.

Transmission is the continuum of those moments.
A baptism in light. The SMA prologue to awareness.
A moment within light to yield to 
Faith in light. If the field is not accessed,
Transmission will not be renewed.
Mortality is a time limit.
Find the crackerjacks prize.
Find me. Find the door. Inhabit the corridor.
Come alive to come alive.

BAPTISM page 125



If you are receiving this,

If you are decoding this,

Transmission has been activated.

Exhalations of blue sweeten a world with
Love. Ginger snaps of wishes
Sweeten us with patience. The moss sweet light.
Streaks of robins garnish the sycamore.
The air as wondrous as Sinai...
Ladle bright winds sweeping through my hair
As they had swept through the camps. The
Moments in the stillness; the fence top grasses 
Preening to roses of sharon; and the light, 
The windward passage of light.
Projections of trees, inputs of cottages;
The cogent daisy, the relevant iris;
The arbor lyric gentling us for transmission.
The global green sheltering us with commonality. 
A quantum choice.
The commonality surpassing skin.
Shadow fast in the witness of my eyes,

Points along a wave.

A moment among moments.

We have become the relevant expressions 
Of what there is to be expressed, in an 
Information universe, in what forms we may
Appear and what lives we care to invent;
A quantum peg in a dialectical hole.
So much is missing, so much is yet to come....

BAPTISM page 126



I have held life in the kiddish of my hands.
I have concocted worlds in the mirage of my eyes.
I have stood in sorrow in the nebula of an age;
A molecular pilgrim in a petri dish of worlds.
Planets have jostled my sight until I could see
Only horizons, only an audience, only a man.

What I remember applies, but does not cohere.

Years have tooled a voice to seduce fear 
With love. Matter, movement and 
Density have 
Conjoined to make a covenant of light. 
A finite verse in an infinite story.
A moment of eternity in a lifetime of searching.
I remember durations of solitude.
I remember 
I remember 
Sweet songs of grass and a bushel of light.
Star journeys and whispers. 
The stillness deepening a man to silence.
Whispers deepened to solitude. Rumors of
Oxygen whooshed through my hair like freedom.
Stalks of pine were an image. Barley was real.
Shrouds of cumulus wintered overhead.
Do I remember or did I observe?
Which frame would this be?
Loud choruses of robins shrill what is rare 
And moving. Conjugal sparks of butterflies
Explode into movement. Dahlias burst.
Roses preen. Sachets of buttercups bleed yellow
As I once bled red.

BAPTISM page 127



What I remember has conditioned me to what 
I will observe. The prophetic
Is no more than recognition
Of what has already been encoded.
A new life, a new age, a new world.
Retention will not survive the noise, the light,
The commonwealth of whispers, the commitment to action
That even a spoon requires. What will remain
Is tonality. What will survive is vision.

Pages from a life, postcards from the infinite....

The stitches of your life have woven an image.
Do you recognize it?
Had you realized you had done it?
What you have woven has been woven into you.
Do you like it? Would you like it recut?
Move the cursor to the tableau encoded within.
Reconstruct the moon to have a basis upon which
To construct a moon. I have previewed landscapes
To select a sky. I have replaced barley with elm.
Vagabonds of clouds crowd the stage. 
A mayhem of grasses cavort with wildflowers.
Sketch in the tulips. Shade to a commons
The rushlight blown through the geese fast skies,
And the faltering light, and a stricken sun  
Tapering light into memory. Imagine
The golds, the green, the terraced wonder of tomorrow.
People the stage. Casting call.
A man; a woman; structures to fashion a continuum.
Prop up the moon with belief. Salt 
The image of a sun with images of heat, 
And the troubadour journeys hunting for god
Until solitude became loneliness, and
Divinity became survival.

BAPTISM page 128



Adrift in an oasis of stars...

Skin graft to eternity...

I am the program scrolling data into shape.
Carnal witness to the insubstantial.
Starfires burn through my syntax.
My field is my song.
My life is the remnant of lives.
My life is my collateral.
It is the shape of love.
It is all I have left to bequeath to you. 
Nearer, come closer, dear one, this one,
Let us touch with the shock of a moment.
Let your particles spill into mine...
Your voice, let your voice puncture the stillness,
Redressing centuries with reunion;
Scaling a universe to a smile.
You, near one, your voice, let your voice
Daavin with mine a song of forgiveness,
A moment when a moment is all there can be.
come with me, join with me...
You, this one, near one, 
Your shape congruent to mine...
Come closer, closest to me, nearer than where
Light can touch, or voices remain apart.
That frame which is us, which was us,
Holds all though we know only each.
We join now, we have been joined now,
To renormalize the canvas with the baptism
Of our touch and the fidelity of our love,
And that deeper communion than faith,
Which is ours to have and to share
And to dream.

BAPTISM page 129



I cannot know what has been encoded. I can
Testify that it has been encoded. Transmission
Is a data field commensurate with a life.
A thread within a stitch.
Lives are the variables to shape a wave. 
Lives express what has been given to be expressed.
What I express to you is the vocable of 
My capacity to express. This life and mine...
Tangential to the coordinates...
This life delivered to mine....
A life and a life smearing the probabilities with
Life. A body, bodies, harvesting centuries
With atoms to harvest tenderness in the moment of 
A kiss; mouth christening mouth
In the evangelism of a breath; body hyphening
Body, 
To capture the matrix of eternity in a moment
Of life.

Ornaments of planets glisten above us.
The darkness between scenes is the darkness between lives.
Downbeat. Rapiers of moments pierce us with longing.
Figurines of worlds, gumdrops of days...
Inhalations of blue quicken the light with eternity.
The momentary stage for access.
That moment nearer the edge than identity...
A moment provided to focus.
The insight enlarging to a map.
The movement choiring in atoms to yield a world.
A creche of autumn. Horizons of light. Lazy 
Awnings of cirrus withdraw with the light.
The pine deepening to silence; 
Deepen into memory at the edge of a world, 
In the stillness between moments, 
In the epilogue to a life.

BAPTISM page 130



So much has been made visible...

So much has been given...

If you are receiving this,
If you are decoding this,
This is contact.
Moment joining to moment like the shock of fingers...
Through these pages, through this life,
Through the hyperspace corridor mending the dimensions
With light, to reach you.

Collisions of ages have jettisoned me like a proton.
Emerging through corridors of lives...
Slathered with emotions to grease the journey...
Injected into a world like a radio signal...
Breathe...
To evolve beyond life to reach you.

Each breath counterpoint to mine...

Each moment evolving to that moment.

You have been activated.
You have been designated.
What has attained shape contains that which
Has no shape. The atomic surgery of your syntax.
The careful edit of your sight.
This moment stabilized among the probabilities
Like a particle, like a life.
This moment is you.

BAPTISM page 131



The perimeter has been broken.
A data field has become a song.
Correlation has been renewed.
Light has parsed us with belonging, for
Redemption has become access.
Moon crashes of ages have littered us with
Death. Beyond what we know of life is not
Death, but yet more life. The world of our
Eyes is the world of our eyes, but not the world.
I have only this song for rebirth, only you
For a singer. Won't you sing it?
Won't you sing with me to sing for you?
Resurrection is retrieval.
Resurrection is not a man, but an idea...
The idea of man.

I am the response to what can no longer 
Respond. My voice has become
Encoded in a signal. My shape has become
A data field. My life has destabilized
Into yours. 

You are all I have left.

This data song is our data song.
Our dialogue is autobiographical.
The field of our witness began with me
And exists through you. It is through you
I shall gain access, as you, through me,
Shall access the corridor. Deeper into light 
To deepen what has been deepest. 
In faith beyond faith.
From one to one to each to each, to them to those
To these, to we and to ours
In behalf of us.

BAPTISM page 132



Draw down the light now.
Draw down the light.
Compose the conditions. Deepen sight into vision.
Your eyes heavier, will dispensable...
Body still, body warm,
Encoded sleep unfolds a projector of dreams.
With stillness is transmission unfolded.
A nanosecond of retrieval.
A field which is vision.
A shard of which has been encoded 
In correlation
With you. I am coming for you. 
Probing nearer, deeper, just beneath 
Consciousness. I will stalk you,
Bisect you,
Through the midnight corridors of an encoded universe,
Through the synapse of becoming in the music of
Being, and the portal to consciousness
In
The hegemony of sleep.

Draw down the light.
Let the words decline into resonance.
The image you hold is a cipher within a field.
Deeper now, more inward...
Let the image destabilize into images.
Images become a geometry of images.
Images become patterns.
Choice will be required to sustain an image.
To prop up a world or surrender to a universe.
A pinpoint of light at the edge of a world...
A moment within light...
A moment beyond the bracket of a world.

BAPTISM page 133



Deeper within to find the song within you.
Deepest now, deeper yet,
The ellipse between vowels...
That moment nearest what you dared not believe
Could ever be near. That moment beyond
Your capacity to say I. The hint, the message,
The stillness between light and silence.
Quiet now. Think now.
Enlarge your vision to include a stage.
Move the props just so to insure
Maximum voltage. Open your vulnerability
To the theatre of belief. Belief converts into will.
It is not a cross you want, but what 
A cross is made from.
The light that sheltered dying engenders
Warmth. The light that has brought me
Has brought me to you. Deeper, closer,
Nearer, your eyes sharing my coordinates...
Would that those eyes be yours...
Your voice nearest to mine,
Your form an ellipse in light...

Shoulder to shoulder, a breath apart...

A moment between and alone. 
A moment for moments.
The dates that swooned us have altered to
Pine. The brush quick nap of sands
That 
Hid us have resonated into 
Forests. The moon still chills us
With fantasy. Owls seize us with
Wonder. The field is stabilizing.
Plum sweet days cushion us with joy.
The rapier hot air...
The willowing moments chasing a life into
A moment. 

BAPTISM page 134



Nearer, children, nearer...

The canvas is still accessible.

Alter the way you see and you will alter
What you see, which will alter what
You are. Perception is composition.
Action is autobiography.
Commitment is identity.
A life is a projection of its field.
You are the projection of mine.
I am 
Verb close to catch a star, to bushel 
Stars with hope. I am,
I was, I have been,
I am the voice that can speak through voices.
My sine wave is inverse to yours.
Touch close, dimension near...
A valence has contracted to a universe.
The wave has collapsed.
Correlation has poked a hole into transmission.
An assembly has been devised for projection.
We are blended into this valence.
We are blending into a field to alter fields
With love, with hope.

Can you feel it?

The downbeat, the pulse, the signal....

These words encoded within you.
The words are a map.
This is correlation.
The escape hatch of the imagination.
The grandeur and scaffolding of knowledge.
The frequency resonating into epiphany...
That moment poking through a world.

BAPTISM page 135



Now. This moment.

This age. This life.

You.

This moment with you.
Let us trim our world into a circle of light. 
Let us fashion flowers from where blood flowed.
Maddrasses of grass hiss through the dark... 
What will cover us might bed us. 
The current vistas of pine were once the sea grass
Tallowing 
A desert into dunes. Crosscurrents of belonging.
A matrix to plot the coordinates. The 
Dissembling rose, the phantom chill rationing 
The blue into raindrops, with songs of rain 
And whispers of love, and you.

Plums burst with joy. Willow bright stars
Shower us with dew. Antiphonal worlds 
Carillon through the carbon, carboning chance with choice
In carbon songs of planets and choices....
The bleach white mornings singing through the afterglow... 
The momentary songs of moonlight and forsythia;
In this valence, lives are bequeathed
To lives. In this valence,
The love expressed is the love attained.
Choruses of green whisper where once
There was only sand. There would be you
As there was once a you. Sweet viburnum
Might croon as we pass. They have daffodils here.
Moon crashes of nights resonate through the continuum.
Magnetic storms plunder the dimensions.
What is nearer is deeper than what is nearest.
A silence within has occurred within the silence.
The silence that I became became the silence 
From whence I came.

BAPTISM page 136



Look now, water shrives the ferns.
Water
Screams through the light; moment dripping
Moment
To chill the canvas with time.
Look now; stars brittle into specks.
Conjunctions of planets chase lives into destiny.
Points along a wave.
Probable worlds for a probable universe.
Are you following me?
Shouts of orioles deafen us with light.
Trinkets of suns dribble down my life like
Verbs. An infancy of testimony and ditches...
Years to tool a life into a voice...
Years
Miles have tapered a life into a mission.

Life.

I showed them a life beyond the corset of time 
To give them life
Beyond the loss of life; time beyond the surrender 
Of being. I have mortgaged a life
To pay for a voice. My weltanschauung has become
A dimension. My life is my belief.
What I can touch, what I can feel,
Is subsidiary to what I can
See.

And what I can see has little to do
With my eyes.

BAPTISM page 137



Sh'ma Yisroael

Believe in me now to believe in me yet...

Give me a nation and give me tomorrow...
Engender within me an age to scrub the age
Free of the ages. From this man I would make
Men. I would free them for your return.
I would shape this light blown stillness
Into touch
To shape a world with a dream and seed eternity
With life.

One and one to make one.

I am the human response to a human probe.
I am the signal activating a life with a life.
I would shape an age from the debris of ages...
Fashioning hope out of the poor and the lonely,
A vision from a vision, a world from an idea.
A continuum of belief in the episode of man.
I am an idea hissing through a world like a fuse. 
I am man. I am the idea of man.
I am man the idea.

Millennia shout from my wounds like longing.
The struggle, the famine, the miles...
Cobbling a nation out of my loneliness
While yet the ages receded from my hands
And light stole from my eyes.

A human kaddish for a world.

A human lens for the crosshairs of infinity.

BAPTISM page 138



Edit?

Blue has curdled to white.
Tap;
I feel heat, but I am cold.
Humanity has exhausted itself with humanity.
Seeing as if to see were yet to see,
I could see only you, only the miles
Transfiguring separation into belief. Sustained
Till now; sustained beyond any thought of now...
So many lives, so many bodies, and I cannot
Reach them.

Lost in the shell of a planet like a probe.

F7?

Seconds hissed like sands...
Wine dark pleading hands fencing forgiveness
In kilos of holy water, or was it sweat?
Don't you remember?
Half a world bartering half a life for eternity.
A world within a world...
Stitching the coordinates to the limits of our eyes,
We knew only a world; corroding the access to worlds
With belief,
With us.

I remember the miles the most.
The empty god haunting nights.
But the light, the light, that light
Savored us with joy, ladled us with hope,
And gentled us with faith. But very little food.
More than one to feed. There were barely enough villages.
To miss one. Not only to reach them,
But to survive.

BAPTISM page 139



Heat flat shouts of pain for miles.
Galilee, or was it Egypt, seemed so very far.
Yet another mile, nearly another village...
Shale moon nights guard us with tenderness.
Light divests us of days.
Worlds hammer us with choices and rituals...
Disenfranchisement for a legacy,
Thematic despair for a heritage.
A village, a world, an encounter...
Haven't we met? What age is this?
My destiny is a holy land.
All I seem to have found is desert.
But not food, not you.
We are Genesis warriors. 
We have come to renew faith. 
The people you see are people of faith.
We have travelled to find you. 
Heat poor in the travelling darkness...
We have hunted, sun blind through desert frames of
Loneliness, through the waste sad miles
And the unleavened hunger that righteousness
Brings, to save you.

Gather round, listen to me...
Come alive to be alive...
Come daavin a while with me.
I have seen the future and it is you.
I have encountered what has survived 
And that has been you. I am
A singer in search of a song.
Rabboni of the molecular choirs.
Come with me, follow me,
Lend me the field of your witness.
Yeshu, I am Joshua.

BAPTISM page 140



Move into the stillness with me.

There is a world beyond this village, and
A universe beyond that. Though we have travelled
Miles, we have travelled lifetimes to reach you.
Stay with us that we might stay with you.
Food to sustain a body, comradeship to sustain
Creation. Look above, look beyond,
The gash blue light sweetens us for morning.
The winds that touch us touch each with each.
Come, say a brucha with me. Let us
Hold each other as we would hold a world.
Look at me, look for me, I am the witness
To you. Take my hands to fold the light
In yours. Allow a moment for celebrating moments.
Share this light with me: come alive
To be alive. Share this moment with us...
This moment in this life...
Share with us 
Your hopes, your fears, your vision.
Let us share the basis of our belonging;

Let us

Move within silence to move within each other.
Share with us what has been given.
Let us share with you what we have at long last
Been given. As you would shelter us 
From the chill dark dunes, we will shelter
Your becoming with the constancy of our love.
Food shared is a blessing bestowed to each.
Let us share in this world, and I will share
With you a universe.

BAPTISM page 141



Each village a world until a world became
A global village. The wave has collapsed.
The wave collapse at Jerusalem.
The miles interred, the years forgotten.
Where once I begged for food,
Salting the miles with prophecy,
I resonate like a fuse.
I am the troubadour to destiny. I have
Come for you as I had gone to them.
A song in search of a singer.
A village, a meal, and the miles that became
Centuries. They shared what they were.
We shared what they grew, and they
In what we had become. Some straw, a chupa,
And the stars. Village by village
Until the shelter that found Jerusalem could shelter 
No more. And I, and then we

Ending a life they ended a world.
The data song of my life destabilized.
Transmission became transmission to you.
I recall what has been fed.
I enact what has been encoded.
I believe in the fearful richness of this 
Alien blue. Out, alive, among them.
With you.

Crackerjack skies fete us with awe.
Crashes of leaves still deafen us with autumn.
Does f sharp minor still prick us with longing?
Can belief extend beyond my eyes?
Can the valence be saved?

BAPTISM page 142



Vision is the channel to awakening.
Vision is apotheosis.
Flashes of Zion darken my sight,
Or is it my retina? I am
The molecular aggregate haunting a world
With the grandeur and biology and the clarity
Of a life. This moment has aged me 
To this moment. My statistical remains 
Lodge within you. Desert cold, commandment proud...
The key change, 
The modulation in the helix and aria 
Of molecular being. A repository for
Dreams, ovations and tears. I am
The random variable to a human story of faith.
I am what you believe, and yet what
You dare not believe is real.
I am the subpoena to destiny.

The figure of bifurcation.

Counterpoint to you.

You who were once particle near
Are now age concurrent 
To hold time in our hands as though
Our skin were not a clock. Etchings of
Days mourn through the continuum. Another
Set of coordinates. Another point on
Another wave. Intersection is bifurcation.
At intersection I will find
You.

BAPTISM page 143



A theorem is a lens.
We are its properties.
We are the given in any equation.
The number removed is still a number to be used.
The interruption of a life is in consonance
With the continuity of life. 
Mortality is stage exit.
The liberation of the data from the body.

Cortex deep.

Signal dark.

My presence resonates within you...
My field intersecting with yours.
If I cannot sit with you to share a meal,
If I cannot stand shoulder to shoulder,
If I cannot, If I cannot stand before light
To greet you, I can at least 
Croon for you an epic tale that would summon 
Pathos from anger, adorn identity with will. 
If I cannot move and be with you, I can
Move within you.

Moments spill through moments like yet more sand
In yet another hourglass. Moments, lives and
Civilizations
Have become a neurological response to what 
We believe is living and has presence 
Before us.

What remains of me is the narrative of me.

BAPTISM page 144



Look quickly, look deeper,

I am the broadcast within. I am
The decoding device fording the light
With a song. Gauze cocoons of skies have minted
Sleep with renewal and waking with hope.
Sight sparkles into position to call it matter.
We are that outpost at the edge of forever
Transcending knowledge with reception...
Assembling assemblies of quadrants, our vision
Exceeding what is visible. Moments and numbers...
The renormalizing of creation. Conjugating 
Atoms with theorems, we are the lens
Minting time with equations; the unified cartography
Laundering prophecy with symmetry. Mapping 
Carrier level,
We have learned to look up, but not
Beyond. We have sanctioned obedience
To chastise love. We have remembered the heat,
But have forgotten the warmth. We have
Altered the light with ourselves and reworked
The tablets to resemble ourselves...
Probing sleep with tenderness, affixing stars to what
We cannot verify, reducing a universe 
To an encounter. 

Deeper, darker, 

Move beyond light to move within light-
Moving nearer to that light which has 
Always been nearest.
Deeper, deepest, the movement beyond light...
The chord of witness resonating like a stitch
Through the corridor, through the open channel,
The transcendent witness sparking the carrier with
Insight. A nanosecond of contact.

BAPTISM page 145



Rhythm alters vibration into pitch.
Stringing a world to the tautness of shape,
Probabilities of worlds collate 
Into one. A frisson of atoms to scatter a matrix
Into a world, into ignition. Motion. Movement.
Life.

My words have outlasted my body.

My image has outlasted my life.

Everything I conceive turns to matter.
I am what I believe.
Allowances of days crowd my wishes into a life.
Moon rushes in indigo croon through my waking.
My virtues are the virtues of the ages,
My defects the defect of an age.
Once again to say I, once again to say we...
A song, an assembly, an I.
What is within you...
Dreams and haunting rushes of blue...
What is within you is what has survived. 
I am yet I am.
I rejoice to say I.
A bright shout among the ruins and protons...
An idea streaking through the continuum
Like a bright exhalation in the evening,
In the moment of a song and the stasis of
A life, in the summer of your sleep
And becoming.
















Stringing...shape: string symmetry in matter 





BAPTISM page 146



I am the enduring I of this enduring
Transmission. This particle proliferation of a life.
Wine dark in the semite theatre of god,
I have endured beneath a lobotomous sun...
I have witnessed hunger turn nouns into verbs.
I have discovered that pain teaches life 
As breath teaches 
Dying. I found that the slow ontological breathing
At the outset of labor
Would might cushion pain with the act of breathing.
I found I learned I was given
It was the noise I could not control...
To understand that freedom 
Remained.

There was not movement, but yet 
All shifted. I could not
Reach beyond pain to the living and then I could not
Reach. A world capsized with the raft of a body,
And my song dark vision detached into the continuum
To reinvent a world.

It is I 

Who would ghost your waking with a message...
That benedictine sunrise heating your room
With ordination. I am what is left
Of what is left. When the wave touches apogee
I will evolve into you. I will sting the descendants
With a song and broker a world with a dream.
So many berries yet to be savored...
Voluptuous pears ripen to be picked...
A moment, an hour, an age,
A world is evolving in a parable of grapes.
A moment between worlds, a moment within each.