Divided for the chance of union Forced perspective Out of focus We are the colored sands Passing through Idle hands of providence We are the pattern That yearns for completion Stillness is the ruler of movement Teach me your ways I want to believe In these moments of clarity Perpetual ritual I can feel it in my bones You are dancing in my blood There is nothing in your mind you have not invited in Who can comprehend What happens When separation ends Prostration. Roots consume. In search of resplendence. We stretch towards the light