
All Tags
- All Tags
- AfrikaanseMusiek
- AfrikaansMusic
- AfrikaansPoetry
- AfrikaansSong
- AI Generated Images
- AIArt
- AIMusic
- Altea Old Town
- AncestralSong
- AudioVisualArt
- AuthorBranding
- BaritoneVocal
- BaritoneVoice
- BookCoverDesign
- BookDesign
- Cakes
- CeramicArt
- Church of the Archangel Saint Michael – Altea
- Chutney & Marmalade
- Chutney de Arándano Rojo
- CinematicFolk
- CinematicHymn
- CinematicMusic
- CoverArt
- CreativeJourney
- CreativeProcess
- DesignAndStorytelling
- DigitalArt
- Enhanced Intelligence
- ExperimentalMusic
- FolkHymn
- FolkMusic
- Fractal Art
- GlazeArt
- GraphicDesign
- GregorianChoir
- Home Made food
- IndependentPublishing
- IndieAuthor
- KDPPublishing
- Krakow
- LandVanDieGees
- MarkVanJaarsveld
- Marmalade & Chutney
- Moedertaal
- Music
- Oranges and Lemons
- OriginalSong
- Poland
- Pride 2026
- PublishingDesign
- RestitutionNovel
- Roepstem
- SacredEarth
- Simat
- SouthAfricanMusic
- SpiritOfTheLand
- Street Photography
- SunoMusic
- SurrealArt
- The Light of Blue: A Two-Movement Dreamsong
- ThePottersGlaze
- Vienna
- VisualIdentity
- VisualMusic
- Walking
- WordPressDesign
- Xativa
- Xativa Castle
All Categories
- All Categories
- AI Assisted Images
- Baking
- Cooking
- Cycling
- Food
- Music
- Photography
- Preserves
- Running
- Walking
- WordPress
DESC
- DESC
- ASC
Load More




![**[Verse 1]** Before the first horizon She moved in symmetry No clock could hold her body No hand could name the sea Her crown held spinning worlds Like fruit on silver vines Her gaze made silence bloom Between the burning lines **[Pre-Chorus]** Not built But remembered Not born But revealed The old dark bent around her Like a prayer made real **[Chorus]** Liminal Sanctuaries... Liminal Sanctuaries of the Third Horizon Stand too close and lose your name Touch the place from which you came Liminal Sanctuaries... Liminal Sanctuaries of the Third Horizon She is where the motion starts She is where the silence parts **[Verse 2]** From her spine the sanctuaries rose Fractal and slow and bright Each chamber kept a thousand truths In polished sheets of light The cosmos found its mirror And bowed without a sound What once was only longing Now wore a human crown **[Pre-Chorus]** Not built But remembered Not born But revealed The old dark bent around her Like a prayer made real **[Chorus]** Liminal Sanctuaries... Liminal Sanctuaries of the Third Horizon Stand too close and lose your name Touch the place from which you came Liminal Sanctuaries... Liminal Sanctuaries of the Third Horizon She is where the motion starts She is where the silence parts **[Bridge]** I came with broken hours And dust upon my tongue She looked through every ending And called me back to one I was a line of fever She was the endless frame I knelt inside her silence And rose restored by name **[Final Chorus]** Liminal Sanctuaries... Liminal Sanctuaries of the Third Horizon Stand too close and lose your name Touch the place from which you came Liminal Sanctuaries... Liminal Sanctuaries of the Third Horizon She is where the motion starts She is where the silence parts Axis of the Third Horizon Axis of the Third Horizon Not built, not born, revealed She is the axis still](https://i0.wp.com/www.markvanjaarsveld.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/07/Liminal-Sanctuaries-of-the-Third-Horizon-cover-1.jpg?fit=768%2C432&ssl=1)
![[Verse 1] In the garden where numbers sleep, Petals spiral in silence deep— Each bloom a code, each vein a line, Drawn by a hand both fierce and fine. A fractal flutters, soft and shy, Its wings unfold a mirrored sky. The butterfly, born of recursion's womb, Spins Mandelbrot into orchid bloom. [Chorus] And in this dance of form and flame, The fractal and the flower claim Their place in time, in art, in lore— Metamorphoses, forevermore. [Verse 2] Chrysalis Math, in sacred hush, Builds grace from graphs and emerald blush. Equations curve where lifelines bend, A theorem posed that knows no end. The Winged Equation takes to flight, With parabolas dressed in light. Each arc a breath, each point a prayer, Suspended in kaleidoscopic air. [Bridge] We are but patterns of light unfolding in time— fragile, recursive, drawn by unseen design. Each breath a spiral, each step a bloom, born of silence, and returning soon. Thanks to the invisible geometries that shape all living things— petal and wing, shell and soul. And to the stars we fall from— our first light, our final sight. [Final Chorus] So count the folds where wings emerge, And trace the edge of nature's urge. For even chaos dreams of grace— In every pattern, a sacred place. And in this dance of form and flame, The fractal and the flower claim Their place in time, in art, in lore— Metamorphoses, forevermore... (forevermore)](https://i0.wp.com/www.markvanjaarsveld.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/07/Metamorphoses-Cover-1.jpg?fit=768%2C432&ssl=1)




