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A Narrow Way

by Roy K Austin
(Dorset England)

There was a humble man
in empathy with cosmic light,
who in desert climes
filled his head with stars at night,
distilling their bright beauty
to shine within his mystic soul,
in rays of old, blue wisdom,
reminded him, of how
their sight had arrived
from their long, long journey
to the magic in his own eyes :
Some called him Christ.
Nonduality imbued him from above
and from the ancient east
but to the west
his sun would set on scorn,
save those who loved him as a man.
Few words would serve the vision
that he served so well,
and few can tell
how words, became the disease
set down on papyri,
how man might reign -
pay lip - service to distorted truth
and cork the wine of centuries.
When his path came to a dead end
a tall, magnificent tree
gripped the edge with it's roots
and he bravely, hung there to climb it,
to see out, far and wide,
bereaved-in grief to know,
accused of blasphemy
how little he was understood,
when ' nil by mouth '
and with no tubes to feed him
he cried out and died,
pointing to what he had seen
and how narrow his way had been.
from the mysticseed

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