He draws near.
And orthogonality ascends;
all creation bends itself into
hyperbolic caritas.
That which has been made
contains not its Maker
but reorients itself into perfection
around He who is perfection.
Now light is bent around
Him
and He is clothed
in darkness too bright
for gravity to endure.
That which is,
ceaselessly unmakes itself
crying Kadosh,
ceaselessly remade
as the Living One
gives it Being from
His Unfathomable Aseity.
He is not understood
through what has been made
for it cannot transmute
the transcendent;
in the twinkling of an eye
we are transposed,
and our souls cry Abba
as the flames of our souls
kindle our speech
to living meaning,
a conflagration of glory.
We become our praise
and offer ourselves to He
who is in all and through all and beyond all and behind and before and under and over and around and contains the all in all of what could ever be within His eternity of infinite eternities. Gloria.
