It’s by science and intuition. A soul
To his mystery. Holy song wafts
Softly. Life comes by travels—roaming
Arcane terrain, most thoughts affixed.
Unknown names, making motion.
Echo of her voice—thwarted at times,
Singsong existence. Sacred of arts,
Each rune an affectation—
Apostleship. Such life is bewildered,
Unmeasured, soundness of deserts.
Bells, solemn morning, kilns. One
Born to debt, awhirl by grace.
A cosmic ritual, a trumpet echoes;
Priests and bishops, belief and rain.
