Eons of missing from a beam’s loss of its star
a perfect wish to meet again
The insight shone like a sapstain laser through lost hope
that the illusion gave
Love was proudly returned to the heart’s origins
saddened by empty meetings that nothing gave.
So the soul longs home
to the mountains telling
where spirits whisper in the housing of mist
and those who listen
awaken to forgotten hearts again.
Feed me in your maturity
not ever doubt the grace
dense as the root it starts to speak of truth
the very self belives
different shapes are seen
in the eye of growing earth.