Golden Shovel
In truth we are not and yet our
turbid mind births the sincerest
trance, which somehow stifles laughter
of our heart, not quite aligned with
pulsations of love, until some
quirk of fate, brings to us deep pain,
whence we see clear truth as it is,
whereupon no longer fear fraught,
befriending the void, we free our
soul, imbibing grace of sweetest
outpourings of celestial songs
and thus divine entwined, we are,
as we are, bliss drenched, beyond those
narrow ego spawned desires that
bind and confine, so freed we tell
of our journey within, made of
love and light, exhuming saddest
delusions borne by egoic thought.
Inspired by these lines ~
“Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those
that tell of saddest thought.”
by Percy Bysshe Shelly – To a Skylark
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