Blake's Truth

From the summit of the evening
As the dawn drew on he heard
Without knowledge of its meaning
In his mind, a silent word.

Stumbling harshly through dark briars
Every step a mountain climbed
To Pandora, in the churchyard
And the tombstones of the mind.

With the moon on endless rising
Through the clouds of dimmest grey
He moved on until the dawning
Then triumphant through the day.

Years ago, 'twas then it started
He began a life anew
Instead of nightly prayer he studied
'Till he told not what was true.

As a boy he thirsted endless
Always seeking, resting never
Wanting to feel wanted
Strong desire to live forever.

Never stopping, never slowing
Toiling through the night 'till morn
Never saw the darkness coming
Saw the rose, but ne'er the thorn.

Believed he finally held it,
World so sweet within his grasp.
Felt the dawning, long in coming
As the night's pale children passed.

Waits now lone among the gravestones
In silence for his fate
Looks abashed toward the heavens, humbled
Words made mute in haste.

He speaks his final words of life,
Strong voice which age should wither;
Holds his hand in silent plea
To beckon night's pale children hither:

"To all, who seek to feel hearts rise
In triumph to meet the dawn
Lift not your souls to greet the sun;
Keep well within the storm.

"For it is the fool who seeks to learn
Before the time is ripe.
Best not to lean towards the dawn -
But linger, in God's night...."