The pounding of the days upon the shore
Of our weary minds, on the border
Of grey infinity
The aching, swirling rush of tides
The groaning, pulling of the moon
Upon our souls

We are
Insects, flying, reaching to the sky
Pulled by forces we cannot comprehend
Pulled by love.

The stars shine, and the moon turns,
But the battle rages ever on
Beyond the shores of Earth and human life;
Beyond the tracts of finite time and space;
That which is, transcending mortal ways.

Beyond the sky, beyond the moon
Beyond pedantic centuries' turn
There is more, the infinite
The clash of dark and light, and falling stars
Crashing down with broken wings.

Although I cannot know these things unseen,
I choose to believe this mystery.