The act of a free man - connected to the balance of the world - projects itself into the infinite. But the fracture, its ontological ballast, the dispersion and the overcoming, bring a harvest of increasing conflict; a descending spiral of splinters lacerating the meridians. Liable for the core of the origins, there remains a pulsating debt radiant in its multiple scissions. It stands between the mother and her repudiated child behind the hand that murders and amid attempts of reconciliation. The dispersion of woe on a vain Earth is done with equity. The task to be achieved, human vocation, is to become intensely mortal... Not to shrink back before the voices coming from the gallows tree, a work making increasing sense by its lack of sense!
In the history of times there is but the truth of bones and dust.
