I am falling into the light
at the center of all mystery;
robust, revealing light.
It grows stronger as I draw closer;
a miniscule dot in the darkness,
blooming, flowering, welcoming
into passion and principle.
Endless falling.
No stopping now, no way
to avoid the relentless inevitability.
This light confronts; it does
not console; it reveals
with no regret.
Pure light penetrates all
pretense and embraces
any soul that dares fall into
sacred oblivion.
Neither grieve nor mourn;
pick a bouquet of wild yellow flowers
from the meadow and
I will smile into your eyes
once again.