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                             finding the blue book                              
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                                  soul friend                                   
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now for the book, the count, the story as inscribed by ibrahim hanif, the one in
clined to friendship with god. who can but marvel at what manages, with as much 
intention as accident, to allow for so many elegant solutions while always leavi
ng a remainder irreconcilable. an infinity which extends effortlessly from the  
outermost reaches to the inner heart of things, for you can only be who you are,
o beating cosmos, lifeblood of all left here to die in the light. but what is it
that dies, and who is responsible for shining. spirit breathes and earth grows. 
water flows and fire burns, until each finds, in contrast, unity.               
                                                                                
forget it all, remember this. you are forgiven, gift of one who knows only love.
                                                                                
in truth, it does not matter how many letters it took, or how you arranged the  
ten spaces. you will not be held to account for all your imaginations, only the 
intention in your heart. and we did not place two hearts in any human breast. so
sing of this single pointed generosity, sweet seeker. your world will pass so so
on, such a tiny slice of spacetimes stretching bell, struck once at what you    
call the beginning and ringing on into eternal night, lasting light.            
                                                                                
here is my lifes question. did you let the book find you. when it came begging  
at your door did you open up and read it not for power, but simply because the  
story blue you away, because you knew at first sight that you could not count it
could not tell it, could not face the truth but by the truths own grace.        
                                                                                
sweet heart, we have been                                                       
swept away by this sweet wind                                                   
                                                                                
sefer                                                                           
    sefor                                                                       
        sippur                                                                  
perfect whether                                                                 
seeing or unseen.                                                               
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findintheway                                                                    
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