An Old Echo
There will be times
When one must speak in riddles
And ever shifting paradoxes
To cleave through the mists
And recast the shadows and the light
There is a time
When the four winds call
A time of daring
For the one who listens
For the one who hears
The vessel made ready
For the mind won’t be on firm footing
And can lose itself in delirium
Struggling to grasp a moment
To see itself in the dark
Sometimes neither here nor there
And within it - a choice
To cling to the familiar
Or dare the preposterous
There are no railings
Only one foot in
And one foot out
And both feet in the nowhere in between
If it can dance on the head of a pin
It can perceive the impossible
If...
To shatter its legacy,
The unbroken dream must end
There can be no pause in principle
There can be no hurry in haste
And no hand holds on secrets
It is in the steady pace
One life or lifetimes is inevitability
Dreams will dissolve into the moment
Locks will be broken
Doors cast open
And the dark places
Will be no more
The idea is no longer lost in words
Unspoken it walks the halls
And is diligent
Paradoxes to conundrums
And then to epiphanies
Glorious order to chaos and back again
Until I is no longer dreamed
And is but an old echo that lies still
Then the space between has vanished
For there are no sides at all
There, lying in the No-Thing
Is impossible diversity
In perfect union
And though I hasn’t departed
It’s let go of itself
And will never be the same
One moment
No time
No separation
© 2017 Allan Beveridge