In this short poem, a contemplative psyche looks backwards and forwards, and perhaps finds no end in sight to either direction.
Through wisdom's heart, a passage leads
to secret country under ancient skies,
where wildflowers bloom as midnight stars,
and the wind whispers truth through centuries.
Through dreaming eyes, the vision pours
like gem-combed sun, the rainbow tress.
Yet trackless lands pass seeing's bounds,
and this waking heart holds wilderness.
to secret country under ancient skies,
where wildflowers bloom as midnight stars,
and the wind whispers truth through centuries.
Through dreaming eyes, the vision pours
like gem-combed sun, the rainbow tress.
Yet trackless lands pass seeing's bounds,
and this waking heart holds wilderness.
