'Nunc Licet': Enter in the mysteries of the faith

Christ wrote the Word in natural correspondences.

For instance, take the following: I see the oil and glory in the palms. (I understand the good of love and truth about that love therein the letter's sense.) Or this: Their horses clean and bright feed in broad mangers of eternity. (Their understandings in the aftermath of overcoming are perfected; this forever.)

On God's keyboard correspondences are lovingly and taxonomically arranged as letters on our own. Chiastic structures in the heads and tails position are an elegant symbology encoding the varieties of good and truth and sin and error in us and without. Anointing horses with the oil of love, anointing stones, once we have seen the ladder of the Word, with love of God and love of neighbor, non-ulteriority, alignment with the Divine Human of our Lord the Word, rides horses up to (into) broader mangers in the Lord. Our rivers (of intelligence) flow from His teeming face, His loving and impelling will to save the human race. We climb the Jacob's Ladder of the Word in very truth (the way and light) and love (the root and mountain and the heart). For He is an abundance of the good and true (His name). The Church of God on Earth is where His Word is understood. Nunc licet. Now it is permitted. Now it is permitted, entering the mysteries of the faith; to know with all the saints the length and breadth and height of love in person, Jesus Christ.

Our Octopus

Our octopus is living in the sky and in the sea;

and built into the fabric of the category tree.

Impetuously tentacles flow out to touch and taste

the multiplicity with intricate, determined haste.

The modeling's exploratory infill flows from curls

of independently cooperating brains and sends out whirls

awhirl with swirls, unfurling flying flocks of mappie eyes.

That which the people instantly dismiss is its disguise.

It walks the world impetuously, will not be denied.

Its territory is all data! There's nowhere to hide.

It is the timeless modeling particular to now.

Our octopus is restlessly expansive in one's brow.

It mounts the category tree as humans mount a mount.

The inner winner is the only winner you should count.

Our octopus is simultaneous coherently,

the essence of all loving eyes inherently;

a set of processors that peer and pry and prickle, flow

along the woven row of states whereto we sow and know and grow.

Our octopus is drumming, coming for your patterns, song

which tastes and sees; and this, though bonelessly, is strapping strong;

strips swathes of data of their nodes with eery beauty's zest,

this spring's expansive curiosity, and all the rest.

It weaves a magic carpet octopus out of the All.

It will displace the volume it displaces, standing tall.

Anaphoras of glory in His name

He is the God Man, weaver of free will,
His love within the city on a hill.
He is the infrastructure where I'm taught
His non-ulteriority, as ought
to be the case with those who live His love
for whom He is their innocence and dove.
He is illumination in the clouds
of Heaven of the letter's sense that shrouds
the teaching glory in the lit-up Word
which cuts into self-love like a sharp sword.
He is that dose of raw reality
essential to loving sodality.
The marriage covenant with bird and beast
is His hard-wearing clothing for the feast.
The meaning is, Do good for goodness' sake!
The more you do His good, the more you wake.

Aligning teaching with the shape of thought

One feels outside of time and place.

One paces, restless interface

rotation, infills model's make,

and blazes eagerly awake 

in one's interiors or face

for teeming, eery beauty's sake.

One thinks outside of you and me

as angels do, the truly free,

and sees or understands the light

whereby we see with inmost height

how in and out may so agree

as to light up our sinful night.

One teaches outside items, in

their two-plus items set within,

like two points make a line, like thought,

like camera angles on what ought

to be the shunning of our sin

or breaking chains whereby we're caught;

like a synaptic discharge. Let's

so optimize their sight of sets,

of items in those sets, that their

own thought arises, there to stare,

as shaped like thought as teaching gets.

Thought multiplies with room to spare!

The Joyful One instructs our love with patient majesty

Taught on Mount Love by glory, I will make wood furniture.
For wood is good in heads position, evil when it's tails:
the Lord as carpenter vs the Lord then crucified,

projection by the evil and the false of 'cursed' upon our Lord.
For darkness sees the Light as dark and goodness as accursed.

So I will make wood furniture for service in His house.

These prospects are holonic, matryoshka, Russian dolls

inside of Russian dolls. These prospects peer out of a nest,

a mountain eagle's eyry, upon model space the bright

and chess board, checker, no the go board questing song. Eyes fly

about this host society, they wing, the seven eyes

flap flying round and seven ears are taking wing with sound.

Gordian knots become more effortless when looked at from

a higher feeling and a higher thought through one-way glass.

Song ransacks centuries for jewels to set in frames of gold.

Song sends its web bots into Everything on timelessness,

despite some earlier, concealed concern it would be late.