This final volume is just that - the final volume...or is it, can it ever really be?

In the beginning was the end and in the end is the beginning... coming home is a journey of becoming, where the traveller journeys through landscapes of myriad minds inviting the breaking of bonds that bind, yet all the while uncertain in the realms of the unknown, yet daring to travel on.

We wait and see - meanwhile take note of Christopher Fry's magnificent - "A Sleep of Prisoners".

I am eternally in the debt of Sir George Trevelyan, the grandfather of the New Golden Age, and with whom I had the profoundest priviledge to spend a moment of eternity with. He introduced me to this stunning verse, amongst so much more.

I dedicate this volume to this visionary genius, droplet of divinity and its brilliant mind - surely a Mind of God and one that has come home.

The human heart can go the lengths of God.
Dark and cold we may be, but this
Is no winter now. The frozen misery
Of centuries breaks, cracks, begins to move;
The thunder is the thunder of the floes,
The thaw, the flood, the upstart Spring.
Thank God our Time is now when wrong
Comes up to face us everywhere,
Never to leave us till we take
The longest stride of soul men ever took.
Affairs are now soul size.
The enterprise
Is exploration into God.
Where are you making for? It takes
So many thousand years to wake
But will you wake for pity's sake?