Spectrum

And why would I move heaven and earth,

if they surround us?

Why shift this world’s very fibre,

if what you have created is heaven itself?

Angels do not sing or play harps, 

nor do clouds encircle us.

We do not have to travel there, 

it is the present, the now.

Nothing is lost or adrift, 

A place is found.

No more searching;

Hills and mountains seem only a dream now.

One needn’t logic or faith, 

Nor an answer.

Questions can be silent, unspoken.

They will find us.

Blackness is light, 

Light, iridescent.

And in this world,

I see this life’s full spectrum.