If you count backwards
from hell to heaven
you find yourself suddenly moving forward;
back in front toward the Pattern.
Play with the spirals;
in good time
you will be healed
of at least some of the lies
that they sold us about organic structure,
about the exponential,
the fractal.
Keep, as always, what you feel
is time, and space,
to nurture your own compassion and grace.
To honour and respect your own image and face.
Life’s labours are love
and each one of the new sun’s rays.
No one ever speaks
without a trace.
In the end, no one ever really forgets their own divine gaze.