The Cycle

a prose-poem about the spiritual journey of life

When the cycle
Birth, life and death
Exists, time is wasted
Gnostic wisdom
Lies dormant
Sidewalks paved over
Sacred ground
Await eruption
It awakens
When its student
Is ready
This single road
Walking nowhere
Walking forever
This poor way-faring
Stranger endures
When it is to time to die
It is time to celebrate
When it is time to live
Be grateful
Knowing Blake
Man never knows