Unless it’s by the foundation’s very reorganization:
The lava-like pulsation of justice’s reverberation,
the elevating currents springing from that inspiration
or the amazing nature nourished in origination,
Created in endless waves of shared aspirations;
raising high depending on the basic orientation
embracing the breadth inherently waking reformation.
Changes are ancient but pages of patience
are painted & made live by the rains’ gift.
Past the mazed mist we grasp our faith’s drift;
the chapters there written as paths of aged ink,
Mastered they sink in as a great wind.
Ask a native, what is liberation?
They’ll point both to the veins & to their circulation.