It seems the gate opens
Somewhere upon the journey
we meet our beginning and our end
on shores that seem ever to flow
between those sparks we know
Holds us for a moments glimpse
and seizes within a space of a second
The soul complete and pure.
A hum fills the space
never ending in its intensity
but consuming in its want
we dive deep into the pools
where matter and thought thrive
bares itself outward
projects there within
every small piece of puzzle
delight of eye
that transfixes us from here to eternity
transforms the hope, view and faith
that makes whole the conversation
between the self and the questioned sigh
That fools in their folly are the masters of why.
This seed within
rich, full and so expecting
opens the buds that here fills
flows out upon the dried aftermath
where scorched the bones plead
the rejuvenating intelligence of the ages
that to life will bleed
and pour out for right or wrong
The wisdom of man.

Alisdaire O'Caoimph