No real beginning
And no real end;
Only a contented few accept
We are but simple threads
In the fabric of the universe.
Others need someone to lead
Though none really knows
Where we are all going;
No more than any other.
But with illusion
Of understanding,
They continue to seek
A truth that will elude
Till humanity lets go.
Only then, when we have fallen
Back into our place
Shall the spirit be able to see
And truly know what is real.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem