​The face of the cosmos

The traveller stood at the gates
Of the great city of knowledge
And called out with all his heart
“Purple blue mystic
White black witch
What is the face
Of the cosmos?
I have travelled a long way to ask
There is a long way to return
Pray tell while strength remains
I would know the mood of the whole
Beyond the single colour.”

No answer came
All colours were the same
In the skies above the city
Before the prism of focus

And so the journey of doubt continued…

Meanwhile the mood under the ground
Stirred in its sleep

Caverns yawned within the greater body

And between the earth and the meaning
Moved a great alchemical mood
Tossing and turning with learning
Beneath the metaphorical feet
Of the journey

The traveller was returning
And just in the return
There was a knowing
In the familiar path alone
In the memory

The ground beneath the feet so sound
Had in its presence already remembered

The village approached
And in it’s history
Stood for everything

The mood rose out of the ground
Beckoned by a sense of belonging
And held in the goodness
Which posed the truest question

The answer lay in the deeds which followed
And happiness borrowed from the earth not taken