A Theory of The Nature of the Suns Within my Universe

Light is a breath

Breathed by the fountainous stream of time, it becomes, as if a single brush-stroke portrait

an essence of fate lit by the dawn…

its moons, shadows of a pureness that is the sun… are not the light…

but mere measurements of time that are dawns, dissolving, that web of silver, that is, the magic which holds together the essences of being which bring into life the world, into the celestial formula of the stones and sky…

to say more, a city, is the light viewed through a stone, but viewed through a city, that stone is the insignia of the sun upon light…

what is a city but not a dwelling of the summary of beings? yes, that is true… but the being of it is also the summary of fates, raised into the air of living in its light (or rather, because its own light it has non, read, as a refraction of light seen through its crystal of it as understanding, to multiply in the being of time)

thus, one breathes light, with the senses, and with it, Being, breathes as a fragrance imbued in that breath, which, in interacting with ones soul, may become life, the cities the mountains, the trees and the earth, are all dimensions of that light, and yet, dimensions, as waves of each other, in the sea of chaos that one orders into shadows of understanding upon the graph of ones sanity... all this too, is not real outside perception, but within it is the grain of reality itself, for the city is made for the being of man as its prophecy...

and a being has no meaning not having been a root of some consciousness.