Mystic

In my mind afloat Drifts a mysterious small boat, Lulled along In contemplative song, Upon a magnificent sea - The far reaching ends of it all That give quiet call, Are far beyond me. It all moves like waves wended, And dreams rended, Flowing into a vague speculation Toward the acquisition of the ineffable; Yet, ever accompanied by a fear Of being unable to find the unsubvertible. - I row - I go - for I must Somehow know, and find The place, the time, That distant - near land, with No more groping, nor grasping, For lasting love, or the guiding hand of man. Life has a mystic pulse That touches all the earth, Mystery has a meaning Filled with unfathomable worth. A mystic castaway resides On an island in my mind, Awaiting - and bringing - an appointed purpose, Beyond the bonds of brains and time. Speaking words of truth - perhaps foreign to me - A lavish love language Of the truly free. The translation to be found When the captives are unbound; The compass, the map, The forward motion That keeps me from turning back. These living esoteric laments Reveal great Beauty to my heart - often blended within sadness - Found in the metaphoric ways of nature and art. It all gets to me In the mystery I feel, of A flowing vision, In a world nearly surreal. The mystic Devoid of worthless words, in Dialogue divine, Puts one eye on eternity And one eye upon time. I've oft here been lost, yet for only a season; Stranded for merely a spell For there is truly hope at the end of reason - Granting pure life through it all The Mystic within Ever remains, Vast and strong Guiding beyond Life's dark waters Never leaving me to drift, Completely alone. '... mystery is as real as the air we breathe... ' - Kathleen Norris.