I never have, in decades now since when
I felt that sacred light, known it again
Except as faded afterglow, still warm,
Though then, a kind of mystic lightning storm
Sweeping me to a transcendental peak
I would from then forever after seek.
It was a light of knowing, not of sight:
I gained no perfect view of wrong or right,
But yet a visionary ecstasy
Revealed that Cosmic Love was certainty.
I felt exalted in that knowledge, calm
And clear, enraptured in a holy balm,
The vestiges of which even now endure,
Enticing me to seek, a holy lure.