Wednesday, September 3, 2014


We who seek the Treasure
that can’t be found,
have we not once known
its place of splendor?
We who yearn for the heart’s breath
and the eye’s spark,
blinking a myriad eternal Nows –
ceaselessly giving life
to a forever dying world –
have we not drunk
from the source of that creek,
yes, the one that flows
from that mountain of a Dream?
We who seek the Treasure
that can’t be lost,
who yearn for its undying Memory,
for its Day without setting,
how would we bear
(dwelling in this narrow human nest)
to find this Treasure’s place?
How would this Bird ever conceive
of stretching its wings
to fly homewards to itself?
For this Bird was created
(on the Morning
of Eternity’s First Day)
with the joy of outbound wings,
that it may seek in sorrow
the one Treasure
that lies beyond all seeking.

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