BESRĀ W-GARMĀ (Flesh and Bone)
The Stair
In this plate, the “Living Truth” refuses to treat the body as an enemy or a prison.
Instead, the flesh is revealed as the “vital stair” upon which the spirit treads to rise.
The perspective is one of staggering warmth, preferring the humble reality of the earth over the spectacle of the miraculous: “I would rather you walk in peace upon the dust — than walk upon the waves”
It is a call to find the Divine not in the defying of nature, but in the simple, holy act of walking and breathing.
The Keeper of the Count
The text offers a hauntingly honest acknowledgment of our mortality.
It speaks of the day when “every bone forgets its mate” whether surrendered to the deep or the fire.
Yet, this visceral imagery of decay is met with the stunningly resonant promise: “I Keep the Count”
This suggests a Creator who is intimately acquainted with our biological reality, promising that nothing—not even the scattered dust of a skeleton—is lost to the Infinite.
Beauty Within the Wreckage
The narrative defines truth not as a stagnant pool, but as an “ever-rising surge of Living Water”
This dynamic vision is most persuasive when addressing the “wreckage of flesh”
It posits that the trials of a physical life are a forging process, where “beauty unmatched” is wrought within the very ruin of the body.
When the vessel finally falls away, what has been fashioned inside remains, “shining forever”
“Do not despise the vessel — for wine cannot be poured without it”
The Ethics of the Vessel
There is a fierce urgency in the command: “Do not waste this brief opportunity”
By framing life as a “threshold of changes,” the text suggests that our time in the flesh is a unique, unrepeatable moment of transformation.
It elevates the “strength of hands and the labor of days” to the level of a sacrament, honoring the physical effort of the worker as the forge of destiny.
It is a poignant reminder that the spirit does not flee the flesh to find its power; it finds its thunder within it.