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The heart asks pleasure first
And then, excuse from pain;
And then those little anodynes
That
deaden suffering,
And then to go to sleep
And then, if it should be,
The will of its Inquisitor
The liberty
to die!
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Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry.
Oh! if you felt the pain
I feel!
But oh, who ever felt as I?
No longer could I doubt him true;
All other men may use deceit:
He always
said my eyes were blue
And often swore my lips were sweet
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Eyes welled, with empathy.
With hope
that only God knows.
A look to show the future.
Moses must have known
Jesus must have known
Mohammed must
have known
As, the other saints.
What it must be like to make blind men see.
Your tears fall on stone, and slowly
etch the crack.
To awaken the love in shelled so long in mankind.
My words fall into a empty sky.
Simply
to coalesce with the world of a passerby.
What is it which supports the sounds.
Making known feeling to those around.
I
sat and watched as worlds combined.
I observed as saints began to shine.
For once worlds unto themselves, they again
return to
the reality of oneness.
Stayed by a force from within.
What is this dynamism where in they stay.
This
love which ends the night of a lonely souls play.
Threading together as pearls on a string.
Reuniting as one, a divine
being.
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Where is the puissance which but yesterday permeated
heavens skies?
Divulging the land of Eden to an innocent eye.
Where is the verve, and when for you shall it come
alive?
Does it lay sleeping, tarring its' time?
Revive love emerge like a stream.
For the time is at hand.
The
labors of hate are near over.
Shine upon this world so all may know.
The droplet which sat before upon a palm leaf has
again
submitted itself, melding into the stream.
And the stream has reached the sea.
Now no longer shall one drudge alone.
If
surrendered, like a drop in the sea.
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