It shifts, dual purpose,
Illusions, truth,
Mirages in deserts,
Purity, the stream of life,
It flows, it flows.
The young lady, she stands there,
Her voice muffled in the silence,
She says something but not a sound escapes,
I take her hand and,
She guides me through this crevice,
Between reality and spirituality,
A key between the black door and the white door,
A way out of the waiting room,
She guides me.
Trees a burning gold,
Everything is connected,
Branching out into infinity,
I walk until the path leads me,
To the two rivers in the seam,
I stand in between.
Silence.
What does it mean?
Perhaps an exaggerated dream,
Foreshadowing,
Of what is yet to come.
I walk, and walk,
She guides me,
The deer wanders,
Behind unboundedly,
Liberated, not a care,
Time is an illusion.
We walk until we stop,
My legs like fluid,
No restraint,
A body of water,
Made from the purest glacier,
Connecting from the two rivers,
Understanding.
A towering mountain stands,
King of everything.
Dipping my face in the water,
Rejuvenation and comprehension arrive,
I see a peek of truth at the bottom,
Swim down but I am stuck,
It's not my time.
I surface as she takes my hand,
We walk down the path,
So inebriated with the vision,
Unaware of the avalanche,
Everything collapsing,
Falling, falling, crashing,
I am not to grasp it yet.
A taste of possibility,
The perfect amount of tranquility,
The Creator poured just enough of each ingredient,
A glimpse of what I need to change.
I take the first step into the last days,
A different man.
