…and behind the perfect shadows, I wait for you upon
silent seas rim-rolled into oblivion’s sun-scapes
crying, lonely only to go out, reaching for comfort in
waves of rhapsody’s flashed flickerings past the ever- edge…
let them go, you say but do not go quietly to see the other side.
I have reached the visible wind in my envelope of essence and
it sees me forward into my being to the raptures of angels
a breath alone, within I will wait for your bringing to me
to see a delicate dancing feather fluttering fearlessly
on secret whispers of omnipotence which solidifies my sovereignty
And at once it is ours to believe.
I tumble menacingly like rumbles from the floor of the sea
into cyclonic wind spirals like the strands of your silken hair
alive I could not see you and knew your shadow’s form
then strangers appear that we knew from worldly literature
Poe, telling the raven of Annabelle Lee’s sea
Socrates explaining suicide in exchange for truth.
Emily and Rumi, poetically having tea under the oak tree
Jesus, Mohammad and Krishna, fishing down by the river
we walk in the green and flowery meadow connected in bliss
“tomorrow” we will take a trip and tour the Andromeda galaxy
The memories of pain, suffering and tears are all wiped away.