GLINTS

     The mystery of evanescent breath
     That vanishes from mortal beings in death
     Inspires a quest to find our spirit’s source
     Some call Élan Vital, a vital force
     That permeates the living universe
     Proving itself a blessing and a curse.

     Though we must die and know our fate is sealed,
     There’s recompense in finding that a Field,
     A Code informs and underlies all being,
     Which intuition knows beyond all seeing.

     Though breath expires and spirit flies away,
     It’s only in our sight they cannot stay:
     Somewhere we cannot fathom they will be,
     Yet we’ll catch glints of that Eternity.

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