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  • Writer's pictureAndrew D. Clark

Omittance of Chamber Days

For now there is a happening,

Here soon to be revived.

And all the days that came before,

Forever intertwined.

Above hard seas,

And solemn dreams,

An interweaved benign retrieve,

That leads the way to love



Quell not can I, this sadness

That lingers on my soul.

Idle oaks between, do I

Feel so very old.

No sight of mind at rest,

All has turned oblique.

In vagrant lofts all lies bereft,

No light for which to seek.

Omittance of chamber days;

A pittance of things to pass.

Wistful in thought I remain

Regarded as feckless and strange.

Cold haven calling swiftly for I know

There grows a light by way of shrouded source.

Beneath each step per dusty pace by road,

A sign implied by means of current course.

Nothing ever goes in vain.

Always there is

A part to remain.

As one,

The same.

Unwaveringly potent,

All has lead to here.

Inward depths of a softest moment,

Unwaveringly near.

And all that I may fathom,

All that I may will,

All is non compared to thee,

Unwaveringly still.

There are places unseen in my memory

Which urge me to meet them in time.

Subtle as silent may be,

Visions in an ocean of mind.

Veil of tide,

Withdraw from sight,

Reveal a sacred view.

Sail of time,

Release the night.

Lead me where I’m due.

Aim repose by sight of low,

In time eclipses pass.

By law of light and slight of woe,

Each one unto the last.

Echoed by mind, illusions undue,

Repeated in kind by delusional few.

No substance in mass, or outward decline,

For truth is inward, no product of mind.

So inward I dwell

And wreak out the hymn,

To chase not mere shadows

Nor recount my limbs.

For onward is still

A journey within,

To planes yet unknown,

Igniting to dim.

Still, onward is vast,

Though surmountably so

A lesson to pass

Underlying it all.



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