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An Old Echo

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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



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