i yield
i yield
there is a multitude of movement
about me
within me
life is in a constant flux
they say that all things have meaning
am i to spend countless aeons
deciphering
to what end
or should i but become
the observant
of life manifest
am i the confluent point
where silence meets noise
where stillness meets life
where light meets dark
where dreams meet reality
am i that cross,
that fulcrum
that balances the polarities
held betwixt nothingness
and the absolute ?
in my midst
there is chaos ever prevalent
that which i can conjure
or quell
is it i that speaks into the void
that stirs these waters
with my spirit
where my abysmal self
is yet being defined
can words alone contain
our exponential-ness ?
to what descriptive analogy
do we cosign ?
is this but evidence
of the cyclic characteristics
of death yielding unto life ?
and the wheel spins
weaving gold from straw
the karmic command
is spoken in whispers
and soul takes heed
reflecting in microcosmic ways
the whole of our potential
that can never be grasped
but let
yes let it be
and our eyes shall be opened
and the light from within
shall pour upon the dark firmament
awaiting our touch
of consciousness
i yield
in reverence
© 25 August 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.
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