My Mind's Eye

A Poem by Dean

It is right to find ourselves
in wonderment before the glories
of the earth, before every valley
of the sky disclosing lush reward
to jaded sight; it is silent grace.
It is even more right to wonder
at the life we are given in every
conscious moment now disclosed to us.

It cedes a second breath
to bind our sleep beneath
a second consciousness that opens
to a breathless eye, a gasping
of the heart. This is the one
that can be mustered only by,
"Depart from me.
I am a sinful man."

This is the conclusion
of the wise one.
This is the coronet his
counterpart may wear.
It is the only soothing balm
that they may finally prepare,
the singular gift of awe.

That is the gentle voice
that puts the hurricane to shame.
It is a sight to render sense
a senseless aid, an understanding
in despair, a ray of light
beyond reality. It is
our hope of heaven
beyond the knee of penitence,
the glorious whirl of now
when words and thoughts are helpless,
crumble in another cast of irony,
and fall away.
~