It Grinds Exceeding Fine
September 5, 2008
From the skies
grist pours
onto the world mill-stone
From time’s ovens
fired by thought’s illusion
bread of the gods
Alphabitomega: the snake grasping it’s tail; the emptiness made full by the being of the circle.
From the skies
grist pours
onto the world mill-stone
From time’s ovens
fired by thought’s illusion
bread of the gods
