The Sentient’s Cave


Of all things to write about, the great expanse;

Of love, the senses, of war and romance,

There’s landscapes and histories, physical prowess and art;

Food different around the globe and similarities of the heart.

~    ~    ~

But think of it from a newborn’s point of view;

or a shut-in, unable to see something new,

When the world becomes closed in and small;

No books or television relieves the color of the wall.

~    ~    ~

When one climbs in bed to lay down at night;

One shuts the bright eyelids like one turns out the light,

Memories come, and hidden fears, the insecurities mean;

Repetitive processing, body aches, and irritants glean.

~    ~    ~

One sees the great expanse in a differing way;

One realizes the plans made don’t always hold sway,

Dreams and hopes make demands and refuse rest;

All the things we can’t do fills a valley of impossibleness.

~    ~    ~

We’re a newborn again, unable to move;

Depressed we don’t own and convinced we can’t prove,

Open our eyes the room is blue forms and thick shade;

Shut them and see the expanse of Sentient’s cave.

~    ~    ~

To a newborn there’s peace, it isn’t her fault;

A puppy dog just wants to protect and chase balls,

Here in the dark of an unfulfilled mind;

Vastness of storage connects to a glimpse of divine.

~    ~    ~

This is the place that God is needed most;

Our lifetime ends in coma- and there’s the heavenly host,

At the end of the valley, expansive road pointing all the time;

Blue skies of Heaven, say, ‘Come child, I’m yours and You’re Mine’.




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