- Posted: Sunday, October 27, 2002
- 165 words
Just as a shadow tells of the object that casts it,
And that behind this object shines a light casting this shadow,
So do the moving notes of any melody tell of the space through
Which they pass. Within this space is our True Dwelling Place.
This unknowable quality of space is the unseen pleasure
In real music. By it we are whisked up and transported to our
Native Realm, where Peace and Enchantment are as one fine air.
One may assume this Heaven without assuming a New Form,
But such a heaven will be the stuff of former forms;
Not new, but bound -- not open, but closed off by the very content
Of our former life to which we cling. In short: not Heaven at all.
Heaven is a realm of New Forms unbounded by time and space,
And if we would assume our rightful place in the True Heaven
We must forgo all that was, and agree to assume a New Form.