Quaerendo Invenietis

I

I am the combination to a door

That fools and wise with equal ease undo.

Your unthought thoughts are changes still unread

In me, without whom nothing's to be said.

u

Without my meaning nothing, nothing means.

I am the wave for which the worlds make way.

A term of time, and sometimes too of death,

I am the silence in the things you say.

m

It is a spiral way.that trues my arc

Toward central silence and my unreached mark.

Singing and saying till his time be done,

The traveler does nothing. But the road goes on.