When we think we come to the end of things,
in fact we arrive only at a new beginning.
Nowhere is this more true than in death
where altered reality begins with a final breath.
The arc of life inexorably leads
to this. But in learning pure intention seeds
of change are sown, producing a certainty
of the end point yielding to infinity -
a continuum with altered state where love
is the medium of existence, valued above
all other virtues. The greatest aspiration
simply to join this background radiation,
becoming a chorister in the eternal OM
that honours Life's enigma: whose final sum
exceeds the logic of its constituent parts
by the measure hope expands all hearts.
Where, in golden seam so deeply mined,
beyond what seems lies clarity of mind.
Thus in an old beginning, forever new,
we strive to recover what we always knew.
This ambiguity can Art alone make real
and show each generation how to feel
reflexions not just of subjective truth
but waters of eternal life and youth.
For Jonathan Harvey, composer. RIP 16/07/2009
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem