The verse comes to the mind of the poet
The mystery of some bit of truth
Flowing from the mind of Truth itself
To an unworthy poet
Who has left the mind’s door ajar
To receive this gift
Tied with the bow called poetry
And given that others might know
The joy of untying the knot
To glimpse the Giver
My eyes still heavy with the nights weight
Gazing through the pane the light crossed my path
Gently touching the side of a cedar.
And the heaviness rose leaving me weightless.
Night came a second time, I awoke in darkness Looking through the pane, the cedar was gray.
Turning the key riding past the same cedar
Light fell through a myriad of green
And the gray lifted in shades of life.
The third night passed, I awoke floating
For my mind had been touched by brightness.
A glimpse of pure beauty remained in thought
Flying past cedars bathed in rays
A glimpse of daylight in night
And the light to come, forever morning
To believe is to seek to believe
The truth just within my grasp
Yet just beyond my grip.
For it is free, this truth.
In holding it, my hand must be open
My mind willing
And my heart penetrable.
It does not stagnate
But the Builder strengthens
For it is He we pray to know
And knowledge of Him is never complete
But ever growing as we
Seek to believe.