Progenitor

Poem By Philip Kirk

As the first man was blind
So too was I blind
Solitary and sacred footfalls over the land
All around, in the darkness, beneath the sky
Of the world

The vast and infinite world

His eyes were opened for the first time
- A day not dissimilar to today
Yet different from all days

Exactly like today, perfectly, absolutely

Thoughts shatter the silence, words break the
Solitude of the world of the man of the blind

Ripped, broken, open, seeing eyes.

“Who walks before me?
Whose form fills my view? ”

‘Til he saw her and knew her as love
She was his always
His pulse and breath of day
As he loved no other
He saw them as the only;
The first; the truest; the life;
He looked and said,

“There is not enough love in the words
In the world to describe these things
Which I now feel for you; to give us a
Name such as love would be false.”

So he let it remain always wordless
Unspoken yet drawn from life
More sacred than silence and solitary
Yet shared in the darkness, beneath the sky
Of the world

- For you I will remain silent
There is not enough love in the words
In the world
For a life; always
Unspoken for you

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And a soul arises with an eager leap
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