The Ancient Mystery is found
in each note on the wind,
each leaf on the branch,
each breath, out and in
and in puffs filled with star dust
backgrounded by blue.
Ancient Mystery is found
in love that is true,
in bunny’s puffed tails,
the tasseled corn stalk,
this radiant morning
on a country walk.
And on city streets
where people amass
Ancient Mystery is found.
This Mystery is vast.
Neither living nor dying
to eternal eyes
are bereft of that Mystery.
Even there it resides.
Behind and before,
without and within,
yourself and others
through it are akin.
In the heart of the universe
it ever creates.
Be still oh dear one, Mystery
Sweet Mystery,awaits.
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