Vol. 1. / Caught Up...

A man stands against the sun, a ring around his edges

A circling of intrinsic golden light

He moves softly forward, coming straight towards me

He doesn’t stop he goes on right through me

And out behind me on the Other Side

I turn around I see his back as he goes onward

I follow, drawn ‘forward,’ too:

(That which is backwards is forwards now.)

I caught him up – and caught up we two were one

A cloud, he disappears; I am on my own, but not alone

I turn not back again nor even turn around   

Pressing onward I went where he went

Following - if I could have seen him, but I couldn’t

And it was so and as it should be, though I didn’t know

Before me is a wood, and the sun shines around its edges

Earthly – the first few rows of trees seem brightly lit 

Invitingly – but they are full of their own light

I move – with arms outstretched I run toward them

Ever hopeful winged in delight, and barefoot free

Yet, made of hollow shells, dry branches do not greet me  

I follow on – I do not stay, I pass right through them

As though they were not there

Wood-caged people they are grounded in Earth.

In their own light, the trees not caught up, melt away.

Passed through them, I am out on the Other Side, alive

For them, I am sad: misunderstood I am all alone

For this lack of losing all how much is lost.

                                      *

( - from THE RAGGED WRITINGS OF EVERLAND: Vol. One)