Poem

Kissed by a whisp of immortality,
I have been lain to rest in nothingness,
Where thoughts and love are just formality,
Where you and me and Truth are meaningless.

The journey of the soul proceeds from hence,
But mine remains in sacrosanct orbit,
Beyond the confines of both need and sense -
Perchance oblivion may absorb it.

Quintessence and its patterns now emerge
And coalesce within a single speck:
My soul is God's, which He has come to purge
From those desires I may not expect.

I sparkle now in hidden depths, bemused
By a serenety with God suffused.