Poem: A Prayer to Shango

When I start to think of God,
I start to think about patterns
and fractals
and pages of math,
describing quanta possibility matrices,
yet there is consciousness.

Each pattern is conscious.
The patterns created from the first
are conscious also,
in different combination's of
Zero and One, The Yin and The Yang.
Different patterns.
Large patterns.
So large I can't even begin
to understand it
except for symbolically.
But conscious never-the-less.

And I.
A consciousness-pattern,
part of a larger one,
who is part of a larger one,
until God,
Infinity,
the Fifth dimension.

Work with me Larger Pattern!
Hear your little self calling to you!
Come to my aid, Great One!
Bring down your fire,
that all your children
of the thunder-stone
may prosper.