Conceives Itself

In the silence of this atmosphere
where even wind dares not to stir,
footsteps echo from the deep
of days we thought too ancient
to repeat.

Tomb-like, this ambivalence
of hearts that beat among
the dream-like state of all
we thought was dead;
as a fearsome awe of wondering
invades the channels
we once thought we knew.

Just when the modern cables
that seemed to bear the power of light
into this realm of ancient
and yet still begotten mystery
abruptly cease to function there at all,
for the fall of innocence itself
now seeks to rise again.

It is born of centuries of man’s denial
as this earth hung in suspension
revolving in an orbit of misunderstanding,
conceived of intellect that is confused,
now reeling dizzily into the real
that feels its way into all life again.

For the heart of earth itself has born
the pain of all our ill-begotten misery
and knows beyond all doubt
the time has come to rediscover
this timelessness that life is based upon;
and so we spin, we’re spun, we’re whirled
into a tapestry that must conceive
itself complete within each form
of its deliverance...

? Michaelette ?

4/25/2001
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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