|Where do we go when we go to a place|
That simply is no place at all?
When we step out of time to become nothing more
Than a memory few can recall?
How can we be when we no longer are?
Or, earlier, not yet have been?
A bit of eternity sits in our souls
Though we live in the house of the wind.
Consciousness comes like a stranger to
Both us and yet something quite more.
Where it may come from and where it may go
Is a wonder behind a locked door.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon