Of Being

A world must have its moment even as
the river and the lava flow.
The blood, an echo from the seething womb of earth—
the wind, defying origin and death,
are alien to footsteps which must cease
when wisdom speaks.
                
Then only humankind can hear.
Then it is that listening and stillness
find their wedding bliss...when
awareness of another plain drifts in.
Frisson within the heart arises; there
in that dimension made where time is set aside,
flesh and spirit chant the hours

and this transcendent consciousness
that you and I who walk below the stars
have dubbed humanity, must  marvel
as it pushes back its intellect
and learns again
that love is all there is.
             ~
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

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