I suppose I should feel lonely.
I spend many hours alone.
Maybe we were meant to be
With other folk.The telephone,
The internet are webs we weave,
To bind us to congruent souls.
I love all touch which I receive.
But I know I have other goals.
My mind indulges in free rein.
It travels far in astral flight,
Transcending doubt, escaping pain.
There is no darkness, only light.
My soul is yearning to return
To its true home from whence it came.
There is one flame. Long may it burn.
One soul, one God who has no name.
I need...