The twin tarot towers fall into their footprint 2 to 1
Like eternal clocks unwinding to perfection
And wound again so we may accomplish
What is already there
And perhaps understand the limitlessness of love,
For that, after all, is its only limit.
I'm aware of you, vescica blue,
And thus conscious of eternity,
Your pi hole in the middle of the rings of Guinevere
The sacred door, the portal,
The sweet g-spot of creation,
God, geometry, the Great arf-arf Seal,
The elusive guess and guest,
Grand Architect, a kind way of saying it:
Gimel Gamma Gamal,
Gematria's perfect triad
Taught by Gamaliel on down
As the harmony when opposites manifest in trine,
As kindness allows in from the choice to give or take
In free will, such generosity twins the contraries,
Merging soul and mind, earth and spirit, into heart,
The G force of G source,
The zero point of everything where nothing creates something,
The key of gratitude that unlocks the gooey, living void
And we all sincerely call for the truth of love
But it's the blue mirror that makes a geometry real
As a spinning funhouse, like the one where the Germans
Lost the War but are still in control ...
Germania, an ancient place of unknown origin
Named by the fiesty Celts for the Romans
To trine the Goths and Gaul as neighbors
For germination and germ warfare
Like 33.3 Gs in the glove of St. Germaine.
The Romans liked to erase things
Like the Druids and the (wait for it) Gnostics.
