Poem: The Human Experience in Four Progressions (First Progresstion: Amidst Dreams Where We Leap)

Amidst Dreams Where We Leap

Borne forth in cold clay
Hardened whet for the One 

in whose hands

                I am naked,
                I am named,
                I am known.

I am called by name,

                to name the great throng!

A host
A herd

A swarm.

New life rumbles, longing along.

Crafted, they find

A place to call home.

Conscious desire,

Awash in this great throng,

     I feel

     I sense

     I know

     I am lone.

The soul weeps a soft,
Subterranean song.
More than mere

                Host

                Herd
                Swarm
How my heart does mourn

Dream a sultry bemoan.

Spied by another whose eyes hold me deep.

Abruptly awakened from abyssal sleep.

Where there was once one;

                now one are two,

Swathed tight, enfleshed;

Reborn in love lace.

Wreathed we are;

A most human embrace
Rooted in wonder,

Laughter now launched!

Stilled in great awe,

Sheer silence unsought!

Birthed here in rich clay,
Embed deep in our soul;
                To tend,

                To work,

 Art to craft in this space.

Primal grace moves the clay
Where feet from dust form.

Borne forth as we crawl,
Amidst dreams where 

                we long,
                we love, 

                we leap

With great awe.
©Biz Gainey, 2014