In the silent depths where shadows breathe
In the silent depths where shadows breathe,
A house of Spirit stands, ageless, vast,
Its walls are woven from threads of light and dark,
Where time is but a whisper, faint and fast.
Within, the echoes of the infinite hum,
The inconsistent stirs in its endless sleep,
A chasm deep as thought, unfathomable,
Where secrets of creation dream are kept.
Yet deeper still, the soul's true journey lies,
Through caverns where no mortal eyes can see,
A descent into the void, pure and raw,
Where the self is stripped to its core, and set free.
Desire, once a flame in the dark, is now torn,
Its roots laid bare, offered to the divine,
In that void, the gods find their empty throne,
And there, the touch of the purest light shines.
In that stillness, where all is laid to rest,
A transformation, mighty and profound,
Rises from the ashes of what was,
A new creation, where the Spirit is crowned.
The house expands, its walls no longer bound,
By time, by space, by the finite mind's reach,
For in its heart, the infinite is found,
In the silent embrace, where all truths meet.
Here, the soul ascends, beyond the known,
To realms where the Spirit's breath is pure,
And in that ascent, a new world is born,
Where the divine and human paths endure.
The house of the Spirit, ever new,
In each breath, in each step, in each thought,
A creation endless, vast and true,
Where the infinite is sought and caught.
