Before too many brain cells wink and die,
I eagerly anticipate that I
Might soon return to cosmic consciousness,
A higher kind of gnosis that might bless
A charmed and favored few, as once it did
My adolescent soul—then shut the lid.
That “taste of honey” lingered through the years,
Alluring me to seek out other seers,
Authentic visionaries who reveal
What ordinary sciences conceal,
Confined to dim materiality—
Transcended by the mystic’s ecstasy.
Though for so many years I’ve traveled blind,
I hope again to know the Cosmos’ mind.