The Ghost Star Poem by Barry Middleton

Where the coldest star turns,
the secret garden is concealed.
Arrogant men claim knowledge
that is knowledge of the abyss.

But the void knows the mystery.
Crystal forests beyond dimension
and hidden elements of intuition
fuse with unwritten laws of time.

There a paradox spins its puzzle,
an impossible riddle is woven,
an indifferent tapestry of chaos.
Yet fools offer up their judgment.

Only mystics cherish the unseen.
They embrace the bewilderment
of a grain of sand lost in infinity.
Only the mystics know humility.

A ghost star turns in utter silence.
Its secret mission is impenetrable.
Its cycle is like the cycle of earth,
life and death without an epitaph.