Must Become

Unidentified, a flying object
hurtles towards the earth
in realms that seem no more
than pure imagining
as a spirit sings upon the wind
urging a remembering
of all that life is built upon

Yet who, or what, or why…?
a sense of presence chooses
just this one point of entrance
to this, our realm of flesh and being
waiting just beyond the bounds
of mind to comprehend

Yet too, at times, it seems
the very nature of this earth
must simply sing through
this reality of form
that blesses us
in its remembrance
of all its built upon

While spirits call, just whispering
and seeking to be heard
by any who might open to
the words of wisdom written
in the wind of this, their being

As tomes so deftly written
oh so long ago
arise within a mind that knows
not where or what or why
this essence that now speaks
becomes the worth of all remembering
as mind conceives each new beginning
based upon the ending
of the core of all that came before

And a sense of mystery arises
to tempt and then to tease
awareness into realms that rarely
gave its secrets up within the past
as veils are lifted to reveal
the primal sense and source
of all that's real

Mists of magic calling, falling
insist on this deliverance yet once again
within the mortal realm of man
even as what seems most feminine
arises in us all to then just fall
no matter where the course
of its meandering might lead

For secrecy was never right at all
and mystery no more than knowledge
awaiting us to find it once again
even as the nature of this world spins
itself yet more into completion

Knowing yet no more than this:
this power of all self-creation
rising now to fall again
so heavily upon the all and everything
that being must become . . .


Copyright© 2000 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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