Ode To Solace

The solace of the open-closed eye.

Of the open-closed breath.

The open-closed day.

The began-then-ending sentence.

Our eternal anchor back to the path.

Many have lived and died before you,

And each one made your solace all the firmer:

Your hands are ancient -

Have already touched all there is to touch,

Your eyes seen all there is that can be seen,

Your thoughts thought all there is to think,

For everything before you, and indeed all that you are, has always been here.

Proto-Atom-Kinship.

Indestructible, Imperishable, by definition.

Be your own unique furtherance of the eternal.

And whenever the mind tricks a feeling of loss in you,

Trace the patterns of the ancients as your guide back to yourself, and to nature.

One day, your descendants will trace yours.

©2020 ALBERT CHESSA