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.
~
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