ABSOLUTION

Missive #30 - Transcribed Poetic Dictation

[What an incredible storm yesterday. All is blown apart. All is blown in. I am holding onto my self. Dreams of slaying legendary whalers alongside giant red whale allies the size of islands, the size of small continents. The spirit of absolution moves about the collective, in sentiment and style. It lingers on the tongue, teetering from left to right and back to the left, crossing each time over the center. Uncentered, uncentering. Remember to center in your self. Becoming centered in your self is a great balm, a great boon to your kin, to our kind. Let go of everything, so everything can be grabbed again. Dancing. I am dancing. We are dancing. Screaming. Laughing. Crying. There is more of all of this yet to do. I am laughingscreamingcrying with you.] Received 12/19/2023 | ~7pm

Listen to the Recitation:

ABSOLUTION
You are absolved
What cannot be resolved can only be absolved
Standing resolute in the absolute
The evolution of resolution
Restitution absorption reconstitution abdication
Restoration reclamation recalibration liberation
Recalibrating reconciliation absconding
Fireball from heaven
Descension from on high
Declension retention reclension recession
Reclenching abscess abscession recess
Retainers’ abscondescence
Heaven is a lens
Lending
The Absolvent
Dissolution
Consolation Consolution Consulate
The Absolutific and the Apophatic are One
Catalysis Analysis Dialysis Forlorn Paralysis
Solve the Riddle Sphinx
Absolute Zero, Absit Omen, is warming
If we should fail, absit omen, all will be lost
Absolost
Absoulution
Descend from your high place of knowing
Transparent, translucent
Lustrous Alabaster, shimmering from
Within, a light, warmly
Speak out unto thee thine own
And release
Cut away the cords attaching to all
Overbearing and inundating; the legacy
Is alive through you; you cannot help
But live it. Let yourself live
The ancestors will shine on you
On your efforts unbounded
All expectations and assumptions undone
Until the self dissolves in the absolute
Absolutely still in the solvent now
And remiss, remissing nothing, emitting
Nothing but the absolescence of every dream
Every vision and scention, sension
Sensitivity unhinged, sensitively, the nose
Takes in fire from one nostril and out
Water from the other, burning hot, searing
The sinuses blaring, trumpets scaring
Souls into unrest, into dismissal
From the school of life, mysteries rescinded
And absconded from the temple’s basement
The tympanum is heard, rattling metal
Chimes blowing in the wind, trees waving
Goodbye, we wave hello back
It’s been so long now
Too long to turn back now
This revolution is running away from us
Freed from our thoughts of what it must be
Or how it is won, why achieved
And into the distilled vessel of its becoming
Bare, unceded, unscinded, singing
Haunting seed chants of weeping willows,
Rush bark scraping, sliding against
Our fingers, calloused and rubbed smooth
To soft velvetine rough, silken song
Of the reeds, hiding place of the new,
Swampy and moist, mudden sublime
Certain of but one thing:
Absolution.
You are absolved.
Of everything. Yes — everything!
If the healing were but a symbol
Of there being nothing to heal, no wounds,
What would your identity be?
You are absolved of your identity.
You are absolved of your wounds.
You are absolved of your regret, of your resentment.
You are absolved of your sense of what is
Right, what is wrong.
Now, rebuild it all.
A funny game, to have it taken away
Only to then be tasked to reconstruction.
What changes? That is the question.
When all is lost and nothing is lost
When all is found and nothing is found
The judgment of the self on the personal
Is damming
Open the floodgates and
Release your solutions
And live again.
In the rampant viscosity of this
And the vibrant luminosity of that
A bolt of lightning, purple hued
Cleaves the sky in two, and erupts
Into the heavens, a fire on high
The angels burn up in the fury of fate
And the spirits of the land weep
For joy, for praise, of all that is
Happening, for all that is coming to
Fruition. Reach out and grab the
Fruit. It is time at last to eat.

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Raphael, Lo Sposalizio (1504)

Israfel blows a nafir in Zakariya al-Qazwini's The Wonders of Creation (1570s). Israfil is the angel who blows the trumpet to signal Qiyamah (the Day of Judgment) in Islam. Though unnamed in the Quran, he is one of the four archangels in Islamic tradition, along with Mīkāʾīl, Jibrāʾīl, and ʿAzrāʾīl. The "Book of Dead" described Israfil as the oldest of all archangels. It is believed that Israfil will blow the trumpet from a holy rock in Jerusalem to announce the Day of Resurrection. He is commonly thought of as the counterpart of the Judeo-Christian archangel Raphael. Israfil writes with the pen (Qalam) the destiny of humans and all commands of God to the (other) archangels. With another wing, Israfil carries the pen, with another Israfil covers his face unable to look at God.