“My words come slowly now, and awkwardly. For I am old, and my time is passing. But if you will hear them, I will say thus.

Your senses are not five, or twelve. They are not thousands. They are myriad. In unity with your origins, you can not merely experience aspects of awareness and sensing beyond your capacity to imagine… you were »born for this.

What you call consciousness is ladder of layers that are only accessible… from a position of relational intimacy and union… that is largely foreign to most who live now.

Because they attend that which mimics this…

And though much time and travail has passed… and many distractions have intervened… you live, now, in the full inheritance with which the entire history of life on Earth endowed you.

But these gifts become accessible… only in unity… where the agreement of many transforms those who agree…

A time of great trials is upon the entire world. Our people are primary among the causes. The story is a circle, that repeats, somewhat uniquely in each cycle.

But I ask you to remember… your own nature. To recover it from explanations and even fantasies… for this nature exceeds them all, explosively…

You are made not only to connect with other forms of intelligence, but to transform in this communion. Your societies present mimics of this, everywhere.

But now, some few of you, will begin to see from above. Beyond ideas. Beyond explanations. Without a story. Clear, and true. And those who do… become, somehow contagious.

We are birds who cannot remember we have wings, but in times of crisis the high terrains call to our souls… and we awaken, and begin again… the process of remembering.

Your minds are birds… in the between of all minds.

Unless your habits and ideas … lead you elsewhere…”

— Apopholaeus, the bind.