what have we put on the shelves of our mind?
to rustle as the train of time rushes by
bathed in light as suddenly God lays one finger
and thus is fulfilled the prophecy of candles
a thousand wicks flickering at the shadowless center
eons passing by the second, the traveler rests
we have left it all behind, world upon world
wondering of the beyond beyond, the halls of dream
and why it is we go on: not even needing hope
in the struggle, the essence of every why
to know what it is to be, to remember the vow
what we put on the shelves in childhood gaze
before the train of time took us afar
that which of truth we knew, that we tasted
as simple as wax from the candle rolling down
that which no one told us, too near to understand
when the lights went out, and still, we could see
when the God who is love whispered our name
and we found ourselves before all beginnings
and we knew none had known that secret of ourselves
until we discovered it, none to know it again
