The one Great Mystery
From dense fog of deep sadness,
emerging in painful breath with
a quiet sob, hoping for better,
I look earnestly for tearless days.
Bright faces, pale in dark of emptiness,
gaze exitedly back in counterfeit of life
they think is real, but alas only flesh
mixed with no mind of keening, dead itself,
without spark of life beyond this one;
which means all to one who seeks
the one Great Mystery of all the ages
only the Ancient of Days can reveal.
Sought after by those who know,
it is all they want to know;
nothing less of truth will satisfy
except our Creator Himself.