I’ve lost myself,
I’ve found myself,
In an alchemical wonderland —
Every atom,
Molecule,
And DNA strand,
Is a knuckle,
Or finger,
On the Hidden Hand —
On my own two feet,
I need not stand —
For he lifts me up,
He lifts me up.
On gusts of wind,
Do I surf,
Sky blue eyes,
They glitter,
veiling a smirk.
For they hold hidden truths,
Seeing your true nature,
The divine within,
at work.
…
Who would need
To transcend the mundane?
Art is relative —
Simply observe
what is before you.
The dull and drab,
Will begin to glitter.
All,
Including that which doesn’t glitter
Is gold.
Pore over the Kybalion.
If below is like Above,
Do you not realize
That you are
Constantly stargazing?
THE CLOSET MYSTIC 