I tried to starve the filth out from inside me
but it grew wings and soared through my veins
I spat blood into public bathroom sinks
but the badness caught in my throat
and has polluted every measly word since.
The universe is always speaking to us … Sending us little messages, causing coincidences and serendipities, reminding us to stop, to look around, to believe in something else, something more.
We have come from God, and inevitably the myths woven by us, though they contain error, will also reflect a splintered fragment of the true light, the eternal truth that is with God. Indeed only by myth-making, only by becoming ‘sub-creator’ and inventing stories, can Man aspire to the state of perfection that he knew before the Fall. Our myths may be misguided, but they steer however shakily towards the true harbour, while materialistic ‘progress’ leads only to a yawning abyss and the Iron Crown of the power of evil.