My soul is writ in mystic verses,
Dredged up from some hidden ocean;
In unknown time and place, was born-
And from the spaces fabric, torn.
And every day I live and breathe,
More complicated patterns, wreathe
My hologram of body; soul-
In my living temples role.
No matter, if I pray or not,
To some old heathens polyglot;
My time is here, my time is now:
The living own the breathing world..
Patti Masterman
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mystic-verses/
