Longing is the universe evolving.

Longing is the universe evolving. Love is the glove enveloping the formless form. Sing, sing of the light. The starlight born of darkness.


And what of you and me? Was our soul-light born then too? Ready made seed: divine spark. Waiting, waiting down the eons.

I, in this moment know myself. Present! Full! Graced. Given. Dance, dance with me now. Maker of worlds! Life giver.

I am here living, aware, joyed. This, "little thing" held in my gloved hand. Looking in and out - seeing all that is. In this I am alone but also everything.

That is the wonder of it all. To see, to love, to be! To be beyond strife and striving.

Let poets speak. Let songs be sung! No random words - save the well chosen. It is all we have to praise the mystery of being.

Yet - even poets are silenced in that ending, when the heart drowns in love.

Copyright John Hetherington Feb 2011

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