Do you remember
The most precious of objects,
Hopelessly lost?

The rush of blood to your face,
The pinpricks of joy on your scalp,
The sprinting of your heart
Toward the oasis of knowing
And the sweetwater well
Of memory?

Or the chance reunion
With the lover
Who opened your soul
And poured in
A tongue of flame
That lit you from within?

We experience
As small openings
Permitting great heat,

So that,
When we catch fire
With the deep recognition
Of our Source,
We are not extinguished
By the flame

But burnished
To brilliance --
Restored to our
Original glow
In the clear burn
Of the Love
From which we came.

--Mr. Gobley

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