And these words are nothing
more then symbols.

Greater still yet lies
beyond.

The source that feeds life to
life...beauty to beauty and
love to all -

Is funneled and channeled for
truth to be told.

And what are we if not but
runes?

Sacred symbols of the Divine.

Expressed quite grandly...though
greater still is our true
source -

Our beings simply
pin
points.
The Infinite trickled
down
as
human
form.

So what is life and what is
death?

Perhaps but only nature recreating what has
lived and breathed once -

And now lives and breathes once
more.

Aahhh...


And is such grand design simply
chance?

Or is it life creating Life as
an artist?

Wiping clean each canvassed sheet...

Painting birth,
death,
renewal.

For an artist listens only to the
voice of forever.

Painting such love...such grace...such
beauty through the brush strokes of
her soul.


And all points of eternity...what was once and
now is.

And everything
for
ever
more...

Is all contained within a
moment.

The artist knows that life is but
a brief imagining of what is
now.

And the possibility of what
could be.


I have struggled with such vast
expanse.

A simple poet battling in vain.

How to express a force so
large?

So full of beauty.

With only symbols forming
words?

And as it is with every
struggle -

A fight - a pause - a letting
go.

The answers comes quite clearly.

Love.

This one word...will say it
all.