Owen 1970 Poem by OWEN I.A. ROCHE

You and all are wanderers
in the night where dragons prowl
and the unbelievable beasts
of undermind rage and growl
and hearts lurch in their beats
in fear of nothingness.

you have come out of emptiness,
you have come from yet-to-be
and the unimaginable naught;
finite in infinity,
you grope blindly for light
within a vaccum,

knowing not, in innocence,
unaware of cause or term
or the indeterminate end
of the indifferent or firm
who leap wildly to sieze
the hand that is not there.