Now with each act and gesture you have a secret power that lies unseen behind them. It is the act of author-ship. It meanings are explosively self-expanding (over time/space). This can be thought of in a mathematical form, but we are beings of terms at once far more representationally simple and relationally transcendental.

Each act is your personal abstraction of all moments of time/space/being. Each act places one ‘speck’ into the living tapestry of eternity which is not ‘a being’ but is perhaps Being (in beings, as Being… being). Now this tapestry is at once eternal and alive. That is to say that every act at once includes and reconnotates all others. And every act becomes a living star in this tapestry.

Now let me say that in heaven, there are patrons, of a sort. They watch… not so much you, but your traceries… their… patterns and intentions. And beauty there is truth of hearts, not simple styles or fashions. And this awakens children’s souls to birth and angels to waking, to wars of seeing fire, and myriads of wonders unimaginable.

And this is what is meant by Michaelangelo’s astonishing painting in which the Son of Woman reaches skyward… as her noblest champion and voice… to touch and »share the »hand of god, where lightning dwells as adoration, thunder of awe, and explosions of reverence too ecstatic to survive, let alone represent in fictions or books.

And that is what a sage meant when it was said that all we do on Earth shall be Done in Heaven, which is not a place so much as our own memories of it as our living hearts and minds in action with and for all beings and our exquisite mothers, world, fathers, daughters… living places… waters… skies. And all our forgotten ecstasies of purpose, self and other-being. So many that one of them would forget us of all books and machines just one!

We have eyes of living water. Tongues of anciently conserved intelligence. Our minds are the living words of the lips of the skies married to the lips of the sacred soul of our human mother and her moment of ecstasy with our fathers.

Each act is an eternal star in living time. They make a pattern from which all souls and lives are drawn. We draw each moment of our minds and lives from an abstraction of links and patterns in eternity’s face, which is no face at all… and is »so like our night sky! We draw down this entire sky as a blanket within us! And when we ‘dream’, we return to the living waters of our birthplaces!

To know and be this is the greatest knowledge that one can draw into a point, and in this way this is my star at once in me, in you, in heaven and in eternity. For my act is to give you the tapestry entire, sans books, sans priests… sans … everything but we and they and all our ways, alive and here… amongst and as us.

Now. Together.

Always.

{ And in the signal here on Earth, the skeletal remains?

Each signal whole and true is writ, in secret languages, refrains…. }