I. Coming To Be of the Sea (a song of gravity)

[instrumental status: reinventing transcendental magic as a dynamic system]

Mystery was never found within the fissures of valleys. Veins iced over as cracking cold came, pushing themselves towards peaks.

Mystery wasn’t even found within the fissures of peaks. There was only a reality, with a Gravity, pointing to provenance.

There was never mystery here, no problem to be solved, only the experience of a Gravity. You could see its effects, sifting through clouds, collecting condensation. You could even trace a relative path, with mountains rising as skies fell crying: rain.

It poured in a precise descent, drips of silent noise drops, then pause, just for a moment, to breakbeat landings singing of innumerable surfaces.

The land absorbed the water, while the water absorbed the land. And through this cycle, the world began seeing itself, naming itself, dressing itself in drench coat reflections. 

The continents spoke first, through fissures and ancient caves, as huge, dreaming animals. Lakes inhaled, Trees exhaled, Mountains were silent.

Water continued falling deeper, feeding Gravity subtleties in leaks, before secrets.

Water continued falling deeper, into a chaotic unraveling, distinctions unfolding distances, and then folded back on top stacks of similarities.

This creeping logic grew, up against Gravity, listening for an ontological genealogy to fall as veil tracing surfaces through time. Gravity gave but more rain.

So it grew by listening for names traced in the water that fell from filled fissures on mountain peaks. They fell towards each other, constrained by Gravity, converging turbulence attracting towards valleys their inevitable narratives.

Rivers fell further upon warmth in density, growing, amplified names dancing in numbers to Gravity’s cosmic cadence.

This is how the Sea came to be. Both a being, and a becoming. Both rooted and restless. It feeds from mountains what they think is indispensable to their depths; building layers of antiquity to form memory. A rising solid order, emerging scattered shores. In the center developed a city. In the city was a God; less a mystery than a volition of Gravity.



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