The Source


The source,
The power,
The seed of all things,
That communicates with
the yearning of our heart,
Feels as we feel,
Sees what we see,
Hears as we hear,
Yet senses more.
Inspiring many
through the eons,
It plants a seed 
in our heart and mind,
Slowly growing,
Seeking the light,
It is everywhere,
Planting itself in us,
The earth, 
The universe,
In all things 
living peacefully
like a vine awaiting,
its fruit ready to press.
Bring forth the wine,
Be intoxicated
by its love
it is known
in mystery
the spheres,
Surrounded by dark waters,
Of deepest crimson wine
Tantalize us
to ponder
from whence it came
and where it goes, 
Like spilt blood
pouring out
over the cosmos,
Galaxies for atoms,
Pushed apart
for fathoms,
Even the darkest of matters 
are revealed by
its curious light
which penetrates
all things;
The spark of life
in a silent communion,
binding all together
in the way
of its mystic union.



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