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From Hallowed Cloaks of Night: Demos, MMXV​-​MMXVI

by Orison Wrethe

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1.
Hear, and I will tell a mystery. There is a knowing we name light; Darkness we name the unknowing. Unweave the riddle if thou wilt: Within the knowing dwelleth an unknowing. Things known yet throb out mystery, Rippling forth their secret selves, multitudinous. Ineluctable as a sound, Waves churn on the surface of the deep-cradled flood. So with the light of knowing: Once-secrets naked to the eye. And thou despisest the light for it! Sayest thou: “Light would fain be the great leveler; Light would stake and possess all, Would let the feral blood from its deepest wells – And so make a mausoleum of existence. May it never be!” O, how little thou understand’st! Thou who searchest the life-depths, Consider it: There can be no mystery But that there be premonition of an answer – Else, the question be not asked. Stand thou upon the high rock, Fast above the deepest vale, In the umbra before dawn – In the shadow-heap, echo of the elder formless. Behold as the first rays pour Knowing fire into the gulf. All revealed in that silent fury Waketh new inquiry, unoccasioned ‘til this lambent hour. Light, the revelator Of mysteries inexhaustible. "And the light shineth in the darkness; And the darkness comprehended it not."
2.
Night Orison 10:18
Chambers of holy silence. We retreat to these secret places, These hollows of the world, Here to utter deadnight orisons. Time is not. O, the silent flutter on taper and oilwick. And even the ageless dark is holy And no less dark. Darkly move our lips, or do they move? Spiritgroaning from selves labyrinthine: Selves obscured to selves. But self let us now shed, Lost outward, into a new worship. Hymns unto the first, O, the Three conspiring into One. Thou increate fount of primal light, We hail thee from hallowed cloaks of night. Holy Singularity, beyond concept: The stillness and the vortex, inscrutable. Primordial love whereby all motions hold. Our bodies' vaulted temple, Filled with the thick smoke of presence. Limb and bone are corridor, This blood wherein the Spirit walks.
3.
"..............."

about

Endless halls arch and gape, unseen, apexing beyond the heavens. What is the soul of Question if not Darkness? My prayer the slightest fraction of a syllable — sent from scarce parted lips as a wisp of smoke. Fragrances in black shadow.

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released August 3, 2019

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Orison Wrethe Chicago, Illinois

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