Harrow and Gyre

Wild nights, harrow, a map of haunts. The bodies are buried and their ghosts emerge, whispering of the by and by. Our ways were different, they say. We knew the voices. This is a miracle feat, not an equation that features sets of mundane things. There is a rainbow in far field, in night sky, in the mist and in the clouds and in moonlight. You are here to do this. What is this, you ask. BY GOING to learn the way. By inhabiting, to find Being.