This is not exaltation

Next to the utter, perfect loneness,

I cry out at first, misunderstanding,

but I remember "when" eternity

'was' a hallway trodden by none,

none but Yahweh alone far beyond,

long 'before' thought of angel or man.

This was not exaltation, but lone initiation,

initiation unto loneness beyond loneliness,

beyond lonely, great grandfather of melancholy.

Lonely I understood, loneliness I had,

in deep melancholy I was, searching hard,

seeing loneness ahead forging my path.

And this path easily pushed beyond

the mountains and ramparts of the sun,

beyond the inner sanctums of time,

unto the very shore of eternity itself,

this same eternity I wrote about

in a theme paper for Mrs. Reid

when I was twelve at my desk, alone.

--RK, 12:14am, 10/26/2013

     (See also: "In the aforetime..." [posted 2007])