Is there a secret path to the heart
Where water tastes like honey?
Is there a silence where eternity rests
Like an embrace that never ages?
Where is the gold if the mines are empty?
Where is Truth if diamonds are aplenty?
There amidst the entanglements of one’s
Own questions lie the threads of an answer.
Ariadne, I was playing poker when you left:
Please come again and re-thread me.