(I’m a crappy poet, but here’s the latest effort:)

We go deep,
Not content merely to scud the surface
and to be moved by minor ripples there,
We dive deep –
Poets, mystics, visionaries –
All looked within in the music of our
Solitude
To see the vision placed by God.
Our knowledge becomes vapor
Distilled
Drop by sometimes-resented drop
Into world trapped happily by externals.

It is the grace,
The hope.
We sense, think,
Know
in viscera
things the frenetic happy-go-lucky
extrovert
cannot.
Ours is the perception
of deeps not suspected
by the one on the surface.
Clarifies our vision,
Equips us for the fray.
We hear the Order –
We see the Call –
We count the cost
and gladly pay.