The Gate of Isis


Deep down within the bone, a secret to bury

The writing on the wall that does not yet make sense

The trace of what could be, this is what I carry

Between now or never I’m sitting on a fence


It’s hard to believe it but NOW may never come

The water does not pause; the brook always flows,

As the relentless stream of this Kali kingdom

All things might pass away when its scorching wind blows


Too small to be carried by the swift water’s stream

Some small pebbles lie low in the bed of the brook

They watch all from below and they silently dream

That a child will pass by, that he shall kneel and look