between

late at night the world grows wider

noise and passion ebb away -

then I always heard it clearly

calling me to play. . .

soft and sweet, the void would whisper

in the dark behind my lids,

and I'd crave its perfect freedom

that the mind forbids

daytime forays through the backyards

searching every in-between

for a path, a passage over

to the great unseen

and I'd crawl through gaps in fences

I would squeeze through cracks in walls

lingering in distant dreams

alone in empty halls

+ + + +

as I grew, my gaps diminished

I moved on to book and speech,

glimpsed the void in games of pauses - - -

almost in my reach. . .

In the black between the pages

in the white between the lines

in the blank before the answers

I would see the signs

then the void seeped through the instants

I began to toy with time

slipping swiftly through the seconds

slowing down the chime

circling closer, ever closer

till I broke the primal bond

and the grid of order opened

to a vast beyond

+ + + +

it is not what I expected

but it is what I have sought

I am more than faith or freedom

I am less than thought

so if one night you hear me whisper

beckoning from far away - - -

then come and play

come and play

come and play