Friday, August 12, 2011


And another thing I should not fail to mention
I have touched him with a cosmic reach
Fingers pause upon his face
A blind man sees through finger tips and sound
His voice is like the roaring waterfalls
Muted with the absence of terror
Crowned with the call of the morning birds
But that face!
Under probing fingers, like a child in the warm dark of sacred night
Finding comfort in the heat of father's embrace

And another thing I should not fail to mention
He spoke but I do not know the words
A thousand choirs of angels
Sound like din and clamor compared
He spoke words that brought a sense of understanding
Yet an understanding out of reach
Mortal minds could not fathom
Man's words, they are like salt on a wound
Man's wisdom is folly compared

Close your eyes and touch, hush and you will hear
The lark and swallow, the bark of his sentries
Guarding green lawns and white fences- in his name
The wind, oh yes, the whispers of the Alpha, Omega
Hear him call to you, caressing your skin
See him in the innocence of the innocent
The beauty unlooked for, the inspired stroke of key or brush
The work of hard days

And another thing...

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