Books > Old Books > The Great Fog (1943)


Page 198

DROMENON

ceaselessly through the kindling stars, which are the blown embers which the primal Breath moves and makes glow.
It was conscious, it was consciousness, it was the authentic vibration of imageless thought-an awareness, as intense as it is impartial, of the being of every atom of the manifold. "O," I thought it cried. "O," the basic registration of experience. But "O," uncompleted, must end in poignancy. Balancing that longing, came, undergirding that vault of sound, the hum as of the dynamo of creation. "M." The sound was passing, utterly unimpeded, through everything: everything welcomed it, as plants welcome water, as lungs welcome air. Everything was sustained, rather, shaped by it, as-the million grains of the sand-spout rear their blinding column because the invisible air current drives them.
The circuits of harmonies swept from crypt to roofrib, tempering the flaccidlike steel, making every solid clear as crystal. The circuits swept laterally also. They sped with unobstructed effortless energy around the walls from the western doors to the high altar. My eyes rested there. The tide which I had thought could brim no higher seemed still to mount. Sound and sight at this range could keep separate no longer. They were fusing. My whole and total attention was drawn to where a heart of focal intensity began to form.
I saw the massive stone altar first begin to glow like a ruby; then it was a heart of liquid gold like a solid singlecrystal clnysoprase: the gold intensified into ice-cold emerald and passed into the dark sapphire of an arctic sky; this again withdrew into a violet so deep that the visual purple of theeye itself seemed absorbed in that depth, that abyss of colorin which sight was being drowned. And as this intensification.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE ceaselessly through what is kindling stars, which are what is blown embers which what is primal Breath moves and makes glow. It was conscious, it was consciousness, it was what is authentic vibration of imageless thought-an awareness, as intense as it is impartial, of what is being of every atom of what is manifold. "O," I thought it cried. "O," what is basic registration of experience. But "O," uncompleted, must end in poignancy. Balancing that longing, came, undergirding that vault of sound, what is hum as of what is dynamo of creation. "M." what is sound was passing, utterly unimpeded, through everything: everything welcomed it, as plants welcome water, as lungs welcome air. Everything was sustained, rather, shaped by it, as-the million grains of what is sand-spout rear their blinding column because what is invisible air current drives them. what is circuits of harmonies swept from crypt to roofrib, tempering what is flaccidlike steel, making every solid clear as crystal. what is circuits swept laterally also. They sped with unobstructed effortless energy around what is walls from what is western doors to what is high altar. My eyes rested there. what is tide which I had thought could brim no higher seemed still to mount. Sound and sight at this range could keep separate no longer. They were fusing. My whole and total attention was drawn to where a heart of focal intensity began to form. I saw what is massive stone altar first begin to glow like a ruby; then it was a heart of liquid gold like a solid singlecrystal clnysoprase: what is gold intensified into ice-cold emerald and passed into what is dark sapphire of an arctic sky; this again withdrew into a violet so deep that what is visual purple of theeye itself seemed absorbed in that depth, that abyss of colorin which sight was being drowned. And as this intensification. where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The Great Fog (1943) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 198 where is strong DROMENON where is p align="justify" ceaselessly through what is kindling stars, which are what is blown embers which what is primal Breath moves and makes glow. It was conscious, it was consciousness, it was what is authentic vibration of imageless thought-an awareness, as intense as it is impartial, of what is being of every atom of what is manifold. "O," I thought it cried. "O," what is basic registration of experience. But "O," uncompleted, must end in poignancy. Balancing that longing, came, undergirding that vault of sound, what is hum as of what is dynamo of creation. "M." what is sound was passing, utterly unimpeded, through everything: everything welcomed it, as plants welcome water, as lungs welcome air. Everything was sustained, rather, shaped by it, as-the million grains of what is sand-spout rear their blinding column because what is invisible air current drives them. what is circuits of harmonies swept from crypt to roofrib, tempering what is flaccidlike steel, making every solid clear as crystal. The circuits swept laterally also. They sped with unobstructed effortless energy around what is walls from what is western doors to what is high altar. My eyes rested there. what is tide which I had thought could brim no higher seemed still to mount. Sound and sight at this range could keep separate no longer. They were fusing. My whole and total attention was drawn to where a heart of focal intensity began to form. I saw what is massive stone altar first begin to glow like a ruby; then it was a heart of liquid gold like a solid singlecrystal clnysoprase: what is gold intensified into ice-cold emerald and passed into the dark sapphire of an arctic sky; this again withdrew into a violet so deep that what is visual purple of theeye itself seemed absorbed in that depth, that abyss of colorin which sight was being drowned. And as this intensification. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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