Released into the Ethers, the Soul is free to search.
Again it left its garment beneath the stony earth.
Those wilted rags of sinew, that desiccated mound -
Forever undeceiving of the tears upon the ground.

Not knowing its True Nature - Divine and Limitless -
The Soul is drawn inexorably to raiments made of flesh.
Then wrapped around its brilliance, the living gown of lace
Diffuses that ethereal light upon the infant's face.

Glorious Flame Eternal masquerading as a spark,
Distracted and cavorting while the fabric falls apart.
Abandoning its costume beneath the stony earth.
It flies away to Heaven, again, again to search.

The ages pass, the mirrors break, the many become One.
As dewdrops slip into the sea and sparks absorb the sun.

Susan Nacsa