Whispers form the software of the Oversoul
I measure every grief
With an ocean of love
I wonder if it weighs
On other minds like mine?
I analyze every calamity
With the treasures offered
From nature like the privilege
The intangible and extreme
Privilege of having seen what I saw
Of having loved an almost Enlightened
Vision of what suffering and
The heights could mean?
Descendent divinity, something
That evolves in contrasts of
Love and pain, so easily hurt
So often ruined, and gently doomed
I measure every grief
But I cannot always tell
The date and time of surreal surprises
The most unexpected things
A few golden drops in centuries.
Wuji Seshat 