Where New Suns Carve a Cathedral I wanted to show radiation as a sacred artisan, chiseling its own temple from darkness while leaving warmth in the wounds. Here I ask if birth is a hymn that erases its choir: pillars become nave, an ionized stained edge, and a gravitational rose-window made of cold fire. Off-center drift in a silvered field holds awe, sacred silence, and the warmth of creation at the brink of comprehension.