In senseless dark, before the day can start,
alone, the Poet contemplates the sea:
chaotic, moving, like the Poet’s art —
like dreams, with perfect ambiguity—
so irrevocably to speak a word
which, like a name with memories imbued
with worlds that come to life when heard,
discloses without risking certitude.
The Poet waits, as inspiration broods
and seeks a word to be devoted to,
whose meaning it can’t capture, but includes,
and incarnates the Poet’s Love anew.
A word is given: sensed, alive and bright.
The Poet breathes, begins: “Let there be light…”
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Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:
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