The mystery that exists

The mystery of what is

and yet what is not.

It doesn’t call to be known,

it only calls to be recognized.

Do you not feel it?

 

That mystery that exists

deep within you and I.

 

The mystery of what is

and yet what is not.

Begs to be heard through the

tears

that stain my face

that you silently wipe away.

It doesn’t call to be known,

it only calls to be recognized.

Do you not see it?

 

That mystery that exists

deep within you and I.

 

The mystery of what is

and yet what is not.

Waits to emerge

from its dark recesses

when we least expect

its’ birth.

It doesn’t call to be known,

it only calls to be recognized.

Do you not sense that.

 

That mystery that exists

deep within you and I.

 

The mystery of what is

and yet what is not.

Silently longing for a world

that is not yours

to have

but only to imagine.

It doesn’t call to be known,

it only calls to be recognized.

Do you not know that?

 

That mystery that exists

deep within you and I.

 

The mystery of what is

and yet what is not.

It comes and it goes

amongst us

sometimes like a tide gently ebbing

and sometimes

like a current stopping

everything in its flow.

It doesn’t call to be known,

it only calls to be recognized.

Do you not want that?

 

That mystery that exists

deep within you and I.

 

 

One thought on “The mystery that exists

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