A Tear of Knowledge
The existence that cried wisdom,
the wisdom that cried to men,
the men who cried to God,
a God who cried.
So does the enigmal purpose take our every soul, is this the dream?
In agreement resounding within these dormant chambers,
We all do dream of this thing.
I vision the unseen curtain,
the curtain revealed,
yet the curtain we wrestle, notwithstanding this thing.
With a tear then can elegant dance this wind cause,
then this motion of ourselves be eternal;
the act has then this thing,
of which we dream.
Forward we struggle within each,
that infinite light untouched.
A dream that only is wasted to expense of nature.
Only to this time I think,
yet before, We all must seek.
Purpose given, within histories written;
And so does purpose drive our every soul, for this is the undeniable dream?
Whether we recognize this feeling or forever forget,
We all do dream of this thing.
The Gift, Experience; a waterfall ever flowing
As we sort to Forgive, Forever; waver only the water,
let the ripples merely replenish your senses:
The piercing rock be the rolling sands,
which gather perfection as the multiples they gather.
And as our ponds well up upon each other,
May we amount our oceans these bodies of celestial knowledges.
And of this people, of this thing
I do too, dream a dream.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Life does seem a dream sometimes, like a DVD