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.