Sabian Symbols
The Face You Grow Into
Seven Colours, One Beam
The Harvest Nobody Has to Hide
Take Today's Fruit Today
One Thin Moon, Many Starting Lines
We Project Disappointment Onto Our Priests
Make Something of the Ground You Have
What Arrives in the Dark Must Be Checked
The Stone Gets Heavier on the Way Down
Safe Enough to Be Gentle
Someone Has Already Laid the Forks
Watch the Hands, Not the Mouth
Many Hands Behind One Bright Ring
Wearing the New Coat Out of the House
The Urge Arose in the Collective Mind
Rehearse Where the Noise Is Real
A Personal Shield, Not a Disguise
A Sword Held for Later Hands
The Test You Asked to Take
Narrow Enough to Need Each Other
Above the Weather, Still Due to Land
Two Minutes of Racing, Years of Mornings
Blow Your Own Bugle, Even If Few Listen
A Fallen Cross Still Catches Light
The Polish on the Boots Is Not the Point
Everyone Wants the Same Thin Road
The Forest Turned to Stone Still Shows Its Rings
Stay on the Far Side of the Branch
Every Stall Needs a Buyer Across the Aisle
Even a Bake Sale Can Hold the Sacred