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Section Index


(Epiphytal Fruition)

How lonely must a lover be
who clings to forms in time
and ponders not upon the depths
which make them yours and mine.

The realm of Wisdom's passion feeds
the host that lives in awe
and wines and dines upon its love,
requiring nothing more.

There is no greater venture;
there is no greater wealth;
there is no greater mystery,
than the journey into self.

The truth of love is thus made clear,
to those who come to see,
that I must live in you my love,
then you can live in me.

An instrument of music cannot play itself,
and in the act of trying one never knows real wealth.
The melody of creation which spans so many years,
plays the tune exquisite; the harmony of the spheres.

And Humankind, as yet to come,
mid love and pain and tears,
will be the pipes on which is played
the music of the spheres.

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