In that dark pool where coldest secrets are
A needle point of heat has had to form:
Through time unmeasured gains against the dark:
Slow forms a roil, in long still waters born.
Vague insubstantial presagers of change
(Small messages let loose by turbulence)
To consciousness by secret routes ascend,
The fifty thousandth, only, making sense.
These signs, foreboding ends and startings, heed.
Do not think to quash that awful pressure
(Formed sure, from in your life's beginnings, deep)
Which could then erupt in painful measure.
No, that fate upwelling fear not nor fight.
Face fear and yield, therein does lie your might. |
