/|\
Mysteries do recover themselves
from oblivion or wearing away
without even complaining.
They stand in front, or aside,
without fall nor apparition,
they simply are there.
Sometimes heaven draws them
among fluffy clouds
or quiet jaspers.
They return any day. By themselves.
They are recognizable although we
keep forgetting what they are made of.
They perch like butterflies,
when we turn they are gone,
only their scent remains.
So much they go unnoticed,
under the mantle of spring
and autumn covering the hall.
Snapping off their raison d’être,
their penetrating sidereal molecule,
which could very well be the portal.
Or, the portals where everyone
wants to go, but no one
will say it out of fear.
Lest we be snapped off,
for if mysteries about being,
are not entirely, well, we are.
/|\
New Phase in the Wheel of Life:
23 September 01:24 UT to first days of November 2022
Southern Hemisphere: Spring Equinox | Germination | Ostara
Northern Hemisphere: Autumn Equinox | Balance | Mabon