James Mclain Poet Lyric

After The Question

Because the Brain — grew quiet —
Men whispered — Soul —
As if a hidden Aviary
Escaped the mortal Shoal —

The Preacher set a golden Gate —
Beyond the failing Breath —
Where Christianity keeps its solemn watch
On Judgment — Life — and Death —

And Islam lifts a Crescent Hope —
Where Scales of Fire decide —
If Mercy — or the Stern Decree —
Shall draw the Soul inside —

The East — in saffron Patience — speaks —
Of Circles — without end —
Where Hinduism turns the Wheel —
Till Self and Silence blend —

And Buddhism — like a Lantern’s breath —
Declares no Soul remains —
Yet Something — like a Wind — proceeds —
Through unremembered Plains —

The Scholar folds his careful Hands —
And names it — Dust — and Done —
No After — but the kindly Dark —
When all the Work is spun —

The Agnostic — a quieter Bird —
Perches — between the Skies —
Confessing Ignorance — may be
The truest of replies —

But I — who heard the Meadow hum —
When Evening’s pulse was low —
Suspect that Life — like Fragrance — slips
Where we are blind to go —

Whether a Gate — or circling Flame —
Or Nothing — vast — and fair —
The Question — like a timid Star —
Persists — in Midnight Air —

And perhaps — the Gift — is not Beyond —
But Now — the fragile Gleam —
To love — before the Lantern fails —
And make of Breath — a Dream —

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