Logos

What is this life?
Mists swirl hypnotic
in the desert.
A mirage beckons,
shimmers and dies as I must.
In the internal winter
I feel the heat of exposure
to its glacial heart
and then the mists return and so do I.
In the labyrinthine caverns
I see the light of
death’s quick blade.
In the primal moon
of my inner eye
I see your light reflected.
Turning the chaotic seasons of my sphere to order,
you rise to bring meaning into life.