By Wynne Bruce

In one moment of rapture,
I was moved from
The ordinary of myself
To a being of
Otherness:

At one with a moonbeam,
The light of a star,
Blended with the dawn,
And birthed with the opening
Of a flower.

All of these and much more,
Yet the poor tools I have
Of words,
Now that moment has gone,
Cannot tell of this being:

All I can say, is that for
One heartbeat,
The voice of my soul
Echoed through Infinity:

And I said
I am.......

Copyright © 1999