It is not that life itself has changed
For I still can see quite clearly
The sad perplexity
On every hand.
And yet there is a new mysterious lightening,
A quickening of spirit that I don’t quite understand.
It is not regeneration which so often comes in Spring,
But a vibrant orchestration in my heart,
Not the tenderness of being loved
But the creative energy of loving.
Not the touch of your hand
But the living spark of your soul
As it awakens mine.
Here is an ecstasy hitherto unsung,
A gateway to awareness.
For to know one other soul
Is more important than all
The books of philosophy
Ever written. And to love is to know
A kindredship of spirits
That transcends the futility.
This is the mysterious beauty of human existance.
To this we give our assent and in doing so refuse
The lure of death and open
Our hearts again to life.