Pool_1

rising simultaneous triple and half step counter rhythms conjured from dispossessed souls of soles. The sea, the cosmos swirling in involution of time and space. Children's faces became one with the ancients. Apprehension died to inevitability. Perceptions of fallen pantheons pulsed within lost eyes. All, together, living and dead, sucked into time and space vortices of universes beyond ours into understandings that can not be verbalized. All became gravity. Unity. Bonded. The extreme and ultimate primordial attraction. "How's he do that?" Johnny asked every time, as the kids just swooned to the magnetism of the pulsation that lingered after he left. "He says it's the rhythm of enslaved souls clamoring for their freedom," Marcus quoted seriously and proudly, "with the back beat of cracked whips and a march of robots and the nagging of the mills," shrugging his shoulders in smiling puzzlement. "Cool." they were saying. The boys liked that palpable appraisal, as unheard, Father Joe quietly mumbled to himself, "..or the leather chatter of the cobbler's drive straps..." "Way cool."