The old bleeds into the new, the new honors the old. And together we sing. In am not without you, you are not without me. Drums crave the guitar, guitar the bass, and bass the drums. There is only One. All is for him, and he is generous.
Life pours from every crease, from the spaces in between, stitches open, storehouses burst forth. WE SING. It's no longer if to create, we just join in. The new, contains the old, increases in depth, complexity, unity. The unfolding of all that is. Dark matter still dark, yet the light pulls us through, and even in a mysterious way uses the dark matter.
The future, will be born of the present, and of the old, and yet somehow time doesn't seem to matter anymore. It's linear and we have been called to the CONTEMPLATIVE. Black and white dips into color. Red, yellow, blue, purple, a harvest and plethora of exploded self regenerative, self transcending greatness.
Sign me up.
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