Digging away, at the primordial clay,
As we pray and beseech ourselves to see what lies
and ties
Us
so closely to this Experience
which we seem to see outside ourselves,
But come to know, as we escape the ties of time,
Is within……
flowing forth in an eternal stream Of ceaseless animation
of what we call a dream,
but is so real,
that we feel….and taste…in vain attempts to understand.
That we might find the way out
by reason or by guile,
yet still we feel the exile.
Until we hear the Truth…..
But wonder still,
Is this but another verse?