Glory to Glory

Inspired by 2 Corinthians 3:18: "Be transformed into the same image from glory to glory." 

*Snap fingers slowly, bass walks four-four,
saxophone stretches long notes behind the words*

Dig this, cats—
We're captive mirrors in this cosmic pad,
Reflecting fragments of the divine light.
Not the whole scene, man, just
Glimpses through smoke and synapse fire.

Glory to glory, riff by riff,
The Holy Hepcat reworks our circuits,
Rewires the neural jazz we've been playing since birth.

Those old demon cats?
We ain't jamming with that scene no more.
Those pathways—burned out,
Dead-end streets where fear peddles its broken wares.

The Spirit moves like Coltrane's sheets of sound,
Restructuring the ancient brain,
Plasticizing what seemed solid stone.

See, the squares think transformation's
Some kind of intellectual game—
Reading the right books, man, quoting the right cats.
But it's in the practice, the discipline of discipline,
The daily dying to what keeps us
Trapped in our own smudged reflection.

I said GLORY—
               TO—
                    GLORY!

Not glory to same-old-same-old,
Not glory to what-I've-always-been,
But glory amplified, transposed, transcendent.

The cosmic Father don't dig materialism, man.
He's building cathedrals in consciousness,
Sanctuaries of synaptic change,
Where old habits fall away like autumn leaves.

Jung was hip to simple chemistry,
But we're talking divine alchemy here—
Not just reaction, but resurrection.

From unveiled faces to unveiled faces,
From broken mirrors to crystal clarity,
From neurons firing old tired patterns
To dendrites reaching toward eternity.

Glory to glory, cats.
Glory to glory.

*Saxophone rises, holds one pure note,
Silence follows*