The swans through leaves of this lotus lake
Sail to touch the moon in crystal cold water.
Child to child will ask what merry to make;
What flowers bloom in this daunted barter?
With reason we refute the satin we long sold,
The fabric of faith tossed in grey and gold.
Here comes the breeze, here lives the saint,
Among these fluttering wings that trust
The cold wind will make its hope sail more.
Why not alone tread these paths bent?
Why not jostle the breaths in the tour?
Why not clap among the crowd we know
By silver coated realms of the moon’s glow?
Among shadows there will be a vision burst
Into flecks of life on the distant divine shore.
When we meet will not talk the journey;
But each moment that we lived forever.
Time will seek answers that it knows for long
With filled words that hymn ‘love is our song’.
The Soul's Whisper 