From the fathomless profoundness
of ethereal expression
in the chronicles of knowledge,
one by one, the leaves are torn.
In the guise of mewling beings
fraught with questions and conundrums,
pages flutter. All the answers
are forgotten when we’re born.
We endure the transformation
through the passage of illusion
as embodied bits of wisdom
disconnected from the whole,
for our singular assignment
in this realm of bounds and borders
is to reassert the message
that is written on each soul.
Life presents us with its lessons
in apparent chances – choices
rife with symmetry and purpose,
comprehensive yet concise,
’til by boon or lucky blunder
or relentless repetition,
we perceive that pain and pleasure
are as temporal as ice.
But as ice returns to water
which, on warming, forms a vapor,
we’re reminded of the substance
of creation: Eden’s mist
emanates across the ages
through the veil of incoherence
where, with passing recognition,
flesh and spirit coexist.