Revelation Manifest Poem by Richard Lyne

An intangible web of invisible, unknown lines manifests in my consciousness
Yet would attempt to conceal its form, that life force which pulses,
Flying astride of my eyes, connecting everything in heart and eye.
At once, I hear cellos play, touch atop the waves, see the sunrise,
And cannot help but muse upon the vast expanse which divides space from space.
An inch of the soul, the inner room behind the dark veil of thought,
Spans the full entirety of visions, veins, the cold that rudely thrusts itself
Between the mind’s slow awakening and a smile which it struggles to define.
Through all, even into the atomic bonds of the spirit, no trace may make plain
The nature of the ethereal realm nonetheless permeated within the fibers
Of everything under the shedding, setting sun, rising as if upon the dulled splendor of
Rome herself in her still-shining dusk. Silence imbues as the warmth of a traitor’s embrace;
What brings a smile in solace returns only to spit on the graves of those
To whom tearful entreaties impart only resigned uncertainty.
Ought we, then, to regard as delusional the sagacious wanderer,
Or of the believers derive scorning cynicism as is our bittersweet wont?
Is it a simple consequence of our awareness, our rousing cognition,
That such has come to pass beneath the world’s purity, us alone at fault?
Yet it is all for the best, for it is not we who set it in motion even one sparrow’s wing.