He Looked Like The Love Thoughts Of

Most Things Are Born In The Mothering Darkness And Most Things Die. Darkness Is The Womb Of Creation, My Boy. But The Sun With His Seven Horns Of Flame Is The Father Of Life.

From Barren Brown Stems To Glistening Leaf-buds; From The Leaf-buds To Snowy Virginity Of Bloom…it Was Like A Flute Song Forgotten In Another Existence And Remembered Again. What? How? Why? This Singing She Heard That Had Nothing To Do With Her Ears. The Rose Of The World Was Breathing Out Smell. It Followed Her Through All Her Waking Moments And Caressed Her In Her Sleep.

Like The Dead-seeming, Cold Rocks, I Have Memories Within That Came Out Of The Material That Went To Make Me. Time And Place Have Had Their Say.

All Gods Who Receive Homage Are Cruel. All Gods Dispense Suffering Without Reason. Otherwise They Would Not Be Worshipped. Through Indiscriminate Suffering Men Know Fear And Fear Is The Most Divine Emotion. It Is The Stones For Altars And The Beginning Of Wisdom. Half Gods Are Worshipped In Wine And Flowers. Real Gods Require Blood.

Bitterness Is The Coward's Revenge On The World For Having Been Hurt.