wait and pray

There is a language of existence.
An interpretation of what it is to breath,
eat, fuck, die,

then pass through the eye of the universe.

Born again of water.
Cursed again by light.

We learn of fire and sounds.
Rhythms of communication.
Consonants and vowels of earthly delight.

Water passes over our eyes.
Our hearts, open and soft,
become the vault and tomb of what was,
never to be again.

All is lost.

Blind. Only knowing IS.

The eye of the needle is infinity.

Again, forget the never was.