It is in the darkness of their eyes that men get lost,
Consumed by the profound agony of change.
It is into the cave of sorrow to which men escape,
To abandon the subtle spirits and dreams
Carried by the ancient southern winds.
It is vanishing into the void of heartache,
And leaping over shadows cast by the sunset.
It is in losing the grasp of dusky memories,
And ignoring nature’s infinite hymn.
And there, at the storm’s wall, man may find
The deceived, depraved and then the quiet.
Only to exist, alone, in a state of mystery.
It is in the hushed darkness of the mind
That men embrace the terror of isolation.
Amongst the vacuum of the universe,
And through the nebula of clouds,
It is there that man tries to unearth a purpose.
To persist as whispers between the trees,
And be renowned as echoes amid the stones,
But it is in the silence that man forgets.
And after all, when the dust settles,
What is left is man.
Beneath the enduring galactic night,
And in the barren space of men’s fragile soul,
There lingers the glow from a quiet cadence.
(lLine reference: “…it is in the darkness of their eyes that men get lost.” from Black Elk, Oglala Sioux 1932, Black Elk Speaks)