Part 1 - The Father Unconquered, he moves o’er the mountains breaking the day, waking the birds —and they call out to him, singing the first hymns He looks down And his morning gaze paints the peaceful valley gold Awakened, men rise and douse the fires that they kindled in his likeness and stoked in his absence For in his light the darkness of the unknown retreats and men can see clearly enough to separate object from object, and thought from thought, and deed from deed… …and in his light men give names and values and rulers make rules and kings draw lines and wild chaos is reigned in and placed in holy order… …and so it goes… The Father’s golden chariot rolls across the afternoon sky and the eagles hunt and the spotted deer leap and the fields of barley waver softly in the breeze… …and The Father watches as the children play and the Sons of Day dream and reach toward virtue like sprouting trees Stretching upward toward truth and beauty and excellence ἀρετή The ordered realm expands and the people prosper and the sun shines and The Father nods from his high seat where he watches all things Part 2 - The Dragon But then — in the distance something stirs in the shadows Twisting and turning over itself And its gaping maw yawns rattling like death — ravenous and the beast is hungry for the end of creation the end of value and differentiation The old dragon stirs… …and the dragon’s name is Negation. The Father sees The Dragon and he knows what must be done Part 3 - The Striker He pulls the clouds across the sky to shield the heavens from his fury and with a thunderous clap he summons the gods of the storm his Strikers, his Bulls! And as his champions ride in on chariots of gold their gallant faces turn and heaven’s drums boom and the host becomes terrible to behold like death to fight doom. And the eagles shriek and the wind howls and the grass on the steppe whips up like waves on a wild sea And The Father’s light breaks through the gathering tempest And he raises his voice and the whole world shakes and the giants of the sky roar like lions And The Father says: BULLS! Self-yoked, bold, and blameless! Hammers of Heaven! The black dragon returns to rob men of meaning, to break their spirits And drag them to the void BULLS! The Dragon will say that every effort is wasted, that every dream is delusion That everything dies, and every name will be forgotten Well, one day even the sun will die — but now, look up and see how it burns! BULLS! Now is your time to burn like the sun. Rise up while you live and become what you are! Drive back this darkness! Be my thunder! Be my fury! Be my storm! And The Father says: BULLS! BE. MY. LIGHTNING.

Part 1 - The Father Unconquered, he moves o’er the mountains breaking the day, waking the birds —and they call out to him, singing the first hymns He looks down And his morning gaze paints the peaceful valley gold Awakened, men rise and douse the fires that they kindled in his likeness and stoked in his absence For in his light the darkness of the unknown retreats and men can see clearly enough to separate object from object, and thought from thought, and deed from deed… …and in his light men give names and values and rulers make rules and kings draw lines and wild chaos is reigned in and placed in holy order… …and so it goes… The Father’s golden chariot rolls across the afternoon sky and the eagles hunt and the spotted deer leap and the fields of barley waver softly in the breeze… …and The Father watches as the children play and the Sons of Day dream and reach toward virtue like sprouting trees Stretching upward toward truth and beauty and excellence ἀρετή The ordered realm expands and the people prosper and the sun shines and The Father nods from his high seat where he watches all things Part 2 - The Dragon But then — in the distance something stirs in the shadows Twisting and turning over itself And its gaping maw yawns rattling like death — ravenous and the beast is hungry for the end of creation the end of value and differentiation The old dragon stirs… …and the dragon’s name is Negation. The Father sees The Dragon and he knows what must be done Part 3 - The Striker He pulls the clouds across the sky to shield the heavens from his fury and with a thunderous clap he summons the gods of the storm his Strikers, his Bulls! And as his champions ride in on chariots of gold their gallant faces turn and heaven’s drums boom and the host becomes terrible to behold like death to fight doom. And the eagles shriek and the wind howls and the grass on the steppe whips up like waves on a wild sea And The Father’s light breaks through the gathering tempest And he raises his voice and the whole world shakes and the giants of the sky roar like lions And The Father says: BULLS! Self-yoked, bold, and blameless! Hammers of Heaven! The black dragon returns to rob men of meaning, to break their spirits And drag them to the void BULLS! The Dragon will say that every effort is wasted, that every dream is delusion That everything dies, and every name will be forgotten Well, one day even the sun will die — but now, look up and see how it burns! BULLS! Now is your time to burn like the sun. Rise up while you live and become what you are! Drive back this darkness! Be my thunder! Be my fury! Be my storm! And The Father says: BULLS! BE. MY. LIGHTNING.

The Dragon will say that every effort is wasted, that every dream is delusion That everything dies, and every name will be forgotten Well, one day even the sun will die — but now, look up and see how it burns! BULLS! Now is your time to burn like the sun. Rise up while you live and become what you are! Drive back this darkness! Be my thunder! Be my fury! Be my storm! And The Father says: BULLS! BE. MY. LIGHTNING.

The Dragon will say that every effort is wasted, that every dream is delusion That everything dies, and every name will be forgotten Well, one day even the sun will die — but now, look up and see how it burns! BULLS! Now is your time to burn like the sun. Rise up while you live and become what you are! Drive back this darkness! Be my thunder! Be my fury! Be my storm! And The Father says: BULLS! BE. MY. LIGHTNING.