Never Alone

From his promontory, space divides the emptiness beyond, permits a blinded soul to look upon the void within and view eternity. It matters not; there is a mind to touch, a spirit revelry within that cannot be the same for sighted ones who miss the feast. Plato shakes his head emerging from the cave, fire stick in hand— It is the dread of knowing, not the chains, that binds his prisoners. Their eyes may slowly close and yet the sight is ever closer as a haze drifts down, a cloud of soft enlightening as on an afternoon Seurat knew well when all is peace and there is dread no more. With isolation gone, no rising from a tomb is good enough. There is a higher resurrection to proclaim, a cosmic sweep for us, into the rush of dawn— and nevermore alone. ~