Here is the third section of my poem sequence.When the wild mystery falls upon us; \nwhen the whirlpool nebula sucks us in,\nthe black hole devours us,\nthe great peace spreads like a stain\nacross the pulsating cosmos\nand everything shall beat in time.\nAs mysterious as unexpected love.\nPrayer and meditation are its beginning, \nthe ending beyondall comprehension.\n\nWorship and love are one thing.\nGod who is the sum of all our selves\nis the shining sun that bathes our bodies,\nis the water that warms the flowing mind.\nNever so close to each other\nas when we are close to the living God.\nThe interpenetration is divine.\nBarriers there are; but they are broken;\ndivision is like glass and may be shattered\nand every shard contains the living warmth.\nRegulation sets the spirit free.\nI am you and you are me;\nand both of us are God.\n\nJesu brother of my soul\nJesu lover of the light\nJesu make the broken whole\nJesu claim the night\nreclaim my soul.While the snowy landscape glows -\nsee, a bank of flowering rose!\nEvery rose a splash of blood\nevery flower essential food.\nJesu feed the body feed the mind.\nTwo aching halves together bind.\nReconstitute the living man\nand make him one.\n\nUp from the deeps like Kundry;\nshallow to some is depth to others;\nand one man\'s deep is another\'s paddling pool.\nFrom the universal life of the water\ninto the universal life of air\ncombined in the floating landmass we call the solid earth.\nUp comes the spirit like a hardened penis\nrising to the promises of love\ninto the oblivion of lust\nthe enticement of the hungry gene\nthat leads us all astray.\nAnd yet it leads us back to the proper \nend in the end. Its proper end, not ours.\n\nIn the study. Sunlight and stillness.\nQuiet and contemplation.\nThink without the use of clumsy words.\nThe most precious comes silently;\nillumination makes us still.\nThis can come at any place or time.\n\nOf the many I am one.\nI out of nothing came.\nTo nothing I return.\nThis planet is my home.\nMy substance in a distant star\nas that star died, was born,\nreassembled here afar\nin a different dawn.\nBy life I was empowered to begin\nmy life, drawn from the void.\n\nTime of waiting; timeof in-between.\nDredged up from the depths, the sheen\nof every fish\'s scales is dull.\nUpon the ivory jawless skull\nthe dim light gleams.\nUnderground, beneath the boards it seems\nthe hidden treasure whispers of the day\nwhen life shall be light, our being gay,\na cause for gladness and rejoicing.\nUntilthat time the precious icing\nof the dim despair covers and cools;\nand little fishes idle in their pools.\n\nBut what is to come will be no better than what is here.\nEverything is recreated at every second.\nThe slow whirlpool of the world\nslowly sucks us down\ninto the dim and visionary places\nwhere ghosts wave in the weeds.\nYou know my name but not my nature.\nYou note my form but miss my essence.\nHow could you place me in a different life\nor call me on an unfamiliar street?\nYou I recognise through all your changes,\ncan follow you through all your guises,\nnow a human being, now a stone, \nonce a shadow, soon to be a star.\n\nWhile Babylon and Nineveh still stood\nwe sought the startime not human good\nthat minces to a mumbling old age.\nWe seek theall consuming fiery ragethat melts the separate metals into one.We seek the image stark, the pillar lonethat acts as beacon to the universe,cracks our parents\' edifying curse,the dross that drowned poor Jesus in his dayre-infecting all our latter clay.Time to smite, to fire and to fleeinto the everlasting that is mewhen I and eidolon are joined together.Recreation: garner and gather materialto fire the roaring flame.Hallowed and thrice holy be his name. Arts, bryant, charles, metaphysical, Performing, poetry