A Visionary Matrix In Four Poems(2)

Afterthoughts Can we trust this perception of Life which dismantles the Walls of Time so that we see with bodily eyes into the Mystery of Things? What entity or abstract force arranges such a series of discoveries and coincidences so that we almost touch its fabric? How can such pure things slip through the tangle of our minds and present themselves as mute witnesses of the Mystery itself, completely exposed? Should we doubt this event, question the motives we had polished clean as silver, and declare we will challenge no further the sanctity of the Temple housing the Mystery? Or should we declare ourselves the Temple's guardians?