"Live your questions now, and perhaps even without knowing it, you will live along some distant day into your answers." - Rainer Maria Rilke

Has the world made such theft
Of forgiving hearts
Left now bereft
Of undivided worlds where truth
Was a hand we held as one?
Is it something that lived in the tenses
Spanning the ages
Of vast consequences?
Was it in this? Was it in that?
The florid throne where once there sat
A sovereign of tacit reason
That lasted but a passing season?
Does it shimmer in the eyes
Of a questioning child?
In the quavering wave
Rippling wild?
Does it flicker in the ember illuminating
The name left standing
In the ever-expanding
Epochs of time?
What is it then that calls to hand
The brush, the pen, the poet to stand?
The bard to rise, the chord to pluck
The lover first by Cupid struck?
And what of those who in their prose
Could see the bloom before the rose?
The rising aubade of creatures leaping
Before the torpid sleeping
Seeking for centers where matter
Is but an empty mirage
And what of those who boldly gaze in us
Who map the maze in us?
The gentle eyes that seek
To see beyond the fragile visage
Of fear, of age, of shifting parts
Upon the stage;
Who see the trinkets in gripping hands
And watch their return to drifting sands
And only ask to lovingly take
Each thing that caused our every ache
And show us that our toys bear blades
Though shiny, loud and full of shades
Who would have us choose for ourselves
That which we do not know we long for
That which was before longing
And that which is long after…
Tell me,
Has the world made such theft
Of dreamer hearts
Where none were left
Who questioned once
And once again
Who were answered now
And answered then?
Or is the world an unraveling quandary
In the flitting eyes of the loving– the wise
And if we can choose…
Would we choose to rise?
Open your heart
To open your eyes

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