O pain of the poem where are you now br To inspire, to conjure my words of passion br Emotions so bare, so preciously full br To flood out the lines that stirs the soul br br As the poet they say doth need the pain br To utter his soul on paper plain br My soul longs for You and is quenched it’s thirst br Even the pangs of a love aloof make not my passions burst br br For how do you stir and cry and bear your sigh br Abundantly abandoned giving all to the feel br The heartaches and passions that stir the mind br Giving expression existence of life in some kind br When the art of existence, the Maker thereof br Captures and keeps your souls’ crevices nigh br To the Source of all purpose and achings br Lifted up and cherished on high br br I think back to times turbulent br When the cry of my heart roamed out free br Hovering abound with the speed of light br Crossing landscapes and pastures dark and light br Over meadows and mountains and oceans of might br Heaths of dusk and dark rocky planes br And pulsing red fervent landscapes of love br br Seeking uncaught to that place of a meaning br A searching force compulsively bound br br I lie here now looking out beyond br My heart a still, an ebbing of soft humming sound br br All fears and passions and achings caught br My soul in the grip of tenderly Source br All knowing, all being br Eternally sought br br br (2005-11-20)br br The Light and the darknessbr br