Sunday, 1 November 2015

Vol. 2. / 41.) Joys Await The Brave And Give Their Other-Sight




Joys await the brave and give their other-sight
And so it was – I saw the wheat – the single stalk
The picture – it cannot be more plainly given
The sign in the glass – the glass in the pool
The pool in the whirlwind – and that
In the midst of me – in my world made new.
Stepping back I had the joy in owning nothing
Knew the gloried end in my knowing nothing:
And free – no guard against any take from me
Naked – no armour against self’s lust in me
The sight of it alone freed me to own it
And owning it – squarely to turn from it
And learn from it – with all joy unspeakable
That I – I – truly was nothing and utterly corrupt
And I knew it – accepted it – and was glad for it:
I walked amongst the eagles as their carrion
I ran with his dead body as an empty carcass
No will my own I owned my own freedom
Flew the lowly heights above the barrier skin:
I had never heard – by any page of many words
The thing was mine to know time out of mind.




  *



No comments:

Post a Comment