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no rhyme nor reason
no life we know has not a heart of finite beats
and into lifespans squeeze we mystery’s ever open door
we make our meaning from the facts we mine and share
and fail to live and dream beyond our powers
if every heart will one day have no pulse
what of the risen Christ with scarred and lancèd wounds
does blood still flow through human heart on heaven’s throne
this dazzling truth transforms our bleak and futile grave
that at the abyss of void and endless end
there is a voice a song a thread that catches love – for it is love itself
from mortal nothing rises truth unknown
all spent and gone eternal’s nought is left
and every energy and hope is held and formed
so stop let go and then we’ll hear its silent call
© Neil Thompson 2026