In the darkness, when we can’t see each other— above the orbs of light closest to us— in the abyss of dark dense enough to be hell, flashes of light emerge like God creating, some appearing almost transparently, the clouds acting as a veil—of a bride and between us and death—asserting their dominance, piercing to the center— like the angels bowling with Zeus, thunderous crashes in orgasmic energy, arising out of dust, birthing awe, calling us into the waters of creation— come within us, finish what you started— leave us breathless with the mysticism held within the echoes across the valley like moans that we cannot contain!