Sincet, Mother of Moments

How hollow these hallways echo,

A distant recollection of the past;

Pale moonlight on a summer night.

Fleeting footsteps flee their own shadowy sound,

No direction, save away.

But the shadows do not still your soul;

For there is no harm unanticipated.

Leave the unknown for the future,

To weave around you,

A cloak of the cosmos.

Sit a moment, child,

To let the Moment take hold,

And breathe infinity into you.

There is no love greater than Hers,

Mother of Moments,

Who gives breath to meaning in erasure:

Through Her all things are qualified.

Discordant distinction to serve as her palette,

Co-authorship via The Truth:

‘First there was stillness,

And again there will be.’

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