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The Hexagon

Updated: Jan 10


Antelopes cross the plain as you sleep.


Among the herd, there was one that stood out from the rest. Her depth of being was unlike all the others, the richness of the mystery she symbolised she wore like the slightest veil.


A hexagon, divided in two along the horizon. Three elements ruling over what lies above, and three elements ruling over what lies below. The seventh element, hidden in plain sight, the foundation of all the others, of all bodies, times and worlds.


Simultaneously, the hexagon rejected and embraced every science, every religion, every philosophy. In its mystical heart, the truth and simplicity of a moment beyond idea or imagination, impossible to obtain but revealed freely to the magnetising emptiness of an abandoned mind.


Now, in the morning, as I write this, the magical skin is with me, a golden fleece brought back from a question (because every question is a quest, and no answer will satisfy unless it taking up a stick and going in search of it), and the answer, an artefact of the seventh element, the beacon on the border, the bomb behind the curtain. These impressions are the gifts of dreams to the world above, to be carried like a torch for driving away the glaring, concealing fog of the day.


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