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(For Kathy)

A life with just the senses five
slumbers; for it's half alive.
Like periscopes above the waves,
by themselves are living graves.
But deeper than the eye can go,
where nought but insight there can flow,
beyond the form the Essence hides;
unspoken words, like Virgin Brides.

Such pearls that do not rust in time;
like virtues that evoke a rhyme;
the melting pot of all that moves,
beyond the browns, the greys, the blues.
The linear line of visual sight
knows well the day; and of the night.
But inner flight can only know
how to make the daylight glow.

The terminus where centres meet;
where one must fly on winged feet,
where the deeper eye is born
which turns a morning into dawn.
Each child invents the world anew,
and thinks himself among the few;
and wax like youthful Cocks-a-crow;
I know ! Oh yes, I know, I know.

Oh my love, do not you see ?
'tis there for all; to use for free.
And what is yours is none the less;
'tis equal... to the very best !
'Tis irrespective of our thought,
for beyond time the mould was wrought.
We did not choose to walk this road;
the labour.... is a Cosmic load !

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