Mystic thrall

Within you, do you feel it,
that compulsion to create?
Break the bands of mindlessness,
take up the song
that like a river surges
to the mothering sea.

Throw off the gait of common dreams
that plod the midnight hours
still mired in sunsets; spur instead
the silver crust of every restless dawn.
Each sends its wild "halloos"
across the moor to better fantasies
that speed the traveler home.

There is surprise upon familiar ground,
waiting for the moment,
an oasis of delight to celebrate
or pass on by. Listen!
There is tumult in the stillness;
there is a fearsome peace
you'll never understand,
yet in its tremulous embrace
the last descending God
would never be the same.
~