Lost In The Modern Wilderness

We are lost in the miasmal darkness With inadequate tools to help us find Our way to the unbroken kingdom. We're guided by a garish profusion Of fleeting, neon lit symbols and signs. We are lost in the labyrinth of words. For we are incapable of naming The essence of blood or fire or star. We are far from hearing wise voices Or deciphering the fabled burning bush That illuminated the wilderness. Instead we follow arrows on treadmills And resign ourselves to fragments of bone; To obscure purposes that cannot Be placated by the pale light of reason. We pretend that we have made progress with Our secular, elaborate designs. We cling to opiates of all kinds and Lexicons that cannot comprehensively Describe the sheer fullness of Being. Yet there's a reassuring, spectral wind. From Time's distant, long forgotten shores; that Still sirs intermittently through the cracks In the frail and all too human structures.