My God has blessed me with a strong imagination.
I picture the Universe's end with nothing but a shrug.
My vision is both weird and wonderful.
I rack my brain
For meaning
Over and over again.
Yet even I can't conjure
An image
Of somewhere beyond
Space and Time,
Where minutes are meaningless
And we see All before us
Sharing with God
A View
That can't be shared
Because there is no up
Or down,
Forward or back
Nor even seconds
In which to see.
For there is a point
Beyond which
I'm quite Blind.
A Spiritual World
Might just be
In my range,
But only just.
The Purpose
Still eludes me
As I bumble on,
Straining to look above
That far horizon.
© PB 4\11\2012 in Yorkshire.
I have always believed that truth, reality, eternity - call it what you will, lies within rather than outside of ourselves. A state of being in absolute balance where all polarization is lost. A state of nothingness or non-being really where individual consciousness ceases as we become integrated with all that is. Now, where is that whisky! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes where is that whisky Valerie? Then I might understand what you just said. Ha ha.