This point of turning, this time of transition, this season of transformation;
This powerful movement of God, this quiet whisper of the Spirit;
Urging my being to new horizons;
Places which are vaguely familiar, but where I have never before been.
Connecting to those whose inner graspings and longings are shared without articulation,
Knowing the agonizing brush with fulfillment; forever striving.
The world may be better, though we may not.
Dreams blessedly elusive; visions, triumphs, tragedies.
Shaken from the cloud, conscious only of self;
To start anew in lonely pursuit with fellow dreamers and prophets.
By Greg Gast