The concept clear to rationality--
stimulus-response,
the matrix of life--that's all there is,
and if we speak, to gain, or score
or cast away a care,
what better course?
We feed on carrion--nothing more--
fly on wings of wax to heaven's loft,
and cry with all the saints
Salve Regina! Kyrie Eleison!
Then we may stop our ears
lest answers come
that we would never hear
upon millenia of time.
But if we hold for but a breach
of that continuum,
no fire can ravage soul,
no judgement fall upon our heads--
nor fury, nor dismay.
Completion lies beyond all mortal resolution, and
our wholeness scribed on consmic pages
shrouded in the mists of vanity--or worse,
our self-styled passage rites.
There is a respite from the battle lines
of fear and trust...
There is a zephyr set to dissipate
the clouds of certainty
which choke us still through noxious fumes
of hate and condemnation.
Not far away is spread a paradise of peace
defined by eyes of pioneers who never saw
its harbinger...that far beyond...
that plain of dreams...that mountaintop...
that shining vision of the soul
which sees in priceless doubt
and faith alone.
~