Precious Cargo

Precious cargo, the body of the
Self all wise and all-knowing if
Only we could speak its lonely
Language - but it waits for us
To see our eyes and speak our
Tongue, to divine the spiral form
Within that curls and curls toward
A central point of peace where all
We are exists and all is nought in
One entwined.  Here we exist as
Pure force, as the mind and being
Envisaged at the second we were
Dreamed by God.  It is the root
Word that space, the place that
Tells us what we are and all we
Have to do is permit some
Silence to pervade our days to
Hear the selves inside crying out
For our attention to their needs -
They'd feed us if they could those
Slow quiet spaces of our inner
Soul's placid whiteness and release -
The spiral force that points to its
Own place.
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