Though trees are green my spirit is a tomb, inscribed with letters telling of its birth. The spirit is meant to rise, it's meant to appear in every human being. All the signs are there, the 'letters' which can be deciphered by passers-by, peering through the gloom. The spirit or inner being is held at arm's length away from us - just an echo away, a gleam of light away. On its own it will never rise but is condemned to haunt its resting-place, searching the eyes of those passing strangers in the hope of detecting a divine and human Grace.
In this way I search your eyes for spirit's rising fire which can inspire my sight to live again and reach upwards, forever higher, as if in answer to the timeless question, 'When?' Without that all spirits must abandon hope here. The hope of hearing in the human name the hidden Being who speaks to every ear and is for sight and sound the living flame.
©landar 2011. All rights reserved
(Picture: Two Men Contemplating The Moon by Caspar David Friedrich)
No comments:
Post a Comment