A Poem by Luke Nelson
In a foreign land there lie mountains of rock and of stone.
A Wind blows through the gullies,
A Hum through the towering trees.
In these mountains there is a deep gorge ascending downwards.
No man has been to the bottom;
It is observable only by the strong-willed thrill-seeker,
The wayward wanderer,
And the ascetic voyager;
Creatures who are lost in the Wild.
Within the depths of this ravine lies an incomprehensible Power,
Watching,
Waiting,
Brooding.
Beasts cower in its presence,
Trees collapse to their knees in submission,
Mountains crumble down into its gaping mouth.
The religious man who stands at the edge of the brink and stares into the Void immediately abandons his piety,
Knowing he is witnessing something far greater than his god.
Thus is the power of the Hum,
Of the Wind,
Of the omnipotent Being within.
Thus is the power of man’s relation to his intangible Beloved;
His Beloved be the creatures,
His Beloved be the trees,
His Beloved be the ancient pillars of rock and of stone.
Thus is the power of the black of the pupil
And the dark of the iris.
Thus is the power of the Eyes of God.
Luke Nelson Art 