That which is never unveiled

I want to see it opened, unveiled.
That hidden light undefined.
I feel the presence of the mystery.
Know the clues reside in darkened places.
Like insects beneath the rocks.

As ready as I have ever been,
To be introduced.
In the shade chilled and picking my nails.
Awaiting the first warm dance upon my skin,
So that the tiny hairs become translucent.

What then,
with my feet out in front of me,
Instead of beneath me,
Can be done to agitate this birth?
I do not know.

It is Nameless.
It is sensed but has never been discovered,
Only imagined,
It can at best be known to me,
As a different shade.

Already experienced!
The explorer that imagines the sands,
From unseen lands,
As blue like the waves,
And waves tan like the grit of the sands.

When I look through past life,
Thumbing the deepest seam of those pockets,
I find only the lint of waiting,
Of hoping.
Perhaps, that is all there is.