Believe it or not

Imagine a fine conduit looping form, over front and back, splitting us in two, within which bliss currents, both cool and warm, in time stretched silence, pulsations renew. This show of delight, by day and by night, fixates our fickle attention within, God’s grace gifting us the boon of clear sight, even as bliss beats prance on our skin. Poised at heaven’s gate, in stillness sedate, essence of presence inhales love’s incense, reshaping fate, as nodes within gyrate, effusing joyously our effulgence. Truth eternal is stranger than fiction, of rapture borne by benign bliss friction.