A tireless faultlessness covers my intimate Spirit,
And in the living waters I close my eyes and sleep.
And dream.
Into the stars, into the breaking sunset,
Off again into colors existing only for
A simple, singular moment.
In time we’ll come back into the Light,
But wait!
Lyrically in the snowstorm ice,
I calmly meditate.
I dream again for the lost child of the
Hurricane forces that turn the world,
Unknowing of the pain, the loss.
Hate it brings moaning
Into the mass of humanity that squirms and quakes in its
Presence.
Yet, in all, we know, we realize that
Awaiting us in the next life,
Is a fraud.
Only some will conquer,
Forging onward and blazing bright in the void of the lost.
But wait…
In time we’ll come back again.
We have more chances than the
Molecules of water in the oceans.
For the cycle turns, sowing and reaping.
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