In The Bosom of The Fire Is The Mystery Poem by Little Eagle McGowan

In the bosom of the fire is the mystery
At the heart of the mystery is a breath
The wind without knowledge or history
The life beyond length, breadth height or depth.

From nothing comes the 'all' for eternity
And eternally in nothingness is revealed
Spirited into being something past sanctity
Sublime from desecrated dying in the unseen

Now dwelling in the circle of the 'not yet'
Becoming unknowing in evolution undefined
Descending to be bourne up in living epithets
Only so...does the loved and broken read the signs.