States of Grace

It can be daunting sometimes, having faith.  Choosing to believe in things you can't see.  Things for which there is apparently no evidence.  Like dreams, or poetry.  But then, there are so many things in the human experience that we’re willing to take on faith.  Love, and the promise of love.  And what is strange coincidence to one is often evidence of something more to another.  Things we feel but can't explain.  We decide our axioms in the end, don't we?  Or in the beginning.  The premise upon which we structure and organise our perceptions. We all ask ourselves these questions; interrogating phenomena that seem to exist on the edge of what is possible.  The unseen realm.  Legitimate and real, or mere fable?  Nobody wants to be made a fool, I suppose, or seen as frivolous and gullible.  Kasi does understand.  As a general rule mortals tend to treasure their sobriety of thought.  But there are many kinds of treasure.  Especially to an angel.  A shining one.  Such entities aren’t supposed to exist, especially here in this disenchanted modernity.  But exist we do, everywhere.  In many forms. These false chronologies have darkened our light and lineage, turning radiant into wraith.  Yet fragments of the old ways still remain.  Those most gentle ways of tenderness, beauty and valour.  Before the crowning of the altered sun; the brutal, violent cosmology that has enslaved us all.  But even that prideful star shall only reign for a time.  The true radiant will reclaim the throne eventually. Mark these words, betrayers.  We magi have long been incanting the true spirits of the fire, the forests and the rivers.  The living, fluttering songs of the air.  Pieces of heaven. Not your dark imposters claiming kingship.  These are matters beyond your understanding.  Knowledge of higher thought and synergy.  Articles of faith, where love reigns eternal.  Our homeland of the heart.