Thought and Belief

Naught but a choir of neurons
Bids me sing of You;

Only a thin filament
Of electromagnetic
Salvation

That runs its riverbed
Can convey me
To the angels.

And every flash
That singes
The heavens
And inflames
My molten
Earth

Conducts itself
Along conduit
Made for that moment,
That purpose
Alone.

We are recombinant,
Combustible;
We perceive,
And in an instant
Are transformed.

What can we know,
Save that about which
We were born
To wonder?

And of what are we made,
Save that which
Makes us anew?

My blood
Bears Your signature,
My poor brain
Enfolds Your fingerprints:

In the blind brilliance
Of an instant
i see the filial embrace
Of piety and passion,

But in the light
Of my days
Plunge again
Into dull
Conjecture.

Small wonder:
i live in the world
We are making,
You and i;

Dark matter
Dances
With wave
And particle

To conduct
The electricity
Of enlightenment
Through the circuits
Of mere
Survival.

By simply
Being,
We eclipse
Being

And join You,
Our co-Creator,
In the crucible
Of eternal
Becoming.

--Mr. Gobley