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Such is the power of the command to love even
If it be from a God unknown.  Even if if we are
Bidden to take forbidden fruit what are these if
God asks for our love we will give it.  Know it as
The gift, the greatest gift there is.  In it all our  
Transgressions are forgiven and the supremest of
Our sins forgotten and this is the unknown God we
Worship The known and unknown God the One we
Obey. Forever and a day a call to love so wonderful
Like an animated picture the long
Blond afternoon stretches far out.
The signs of humanity are all about
But there is no one around-all is still
Then a lone car passes then nothing
Again.  The tableau is lonely as it is
Lovely.  I do not want to change it
I cannot.  I am alone and must be ...
Grateful; and Sad.  Slow change like
A picture is all I have  No more to
Hope for so I must save all I  have
While now whispers with long agos
And everything slowly turns golden

For Bren
There is the truth we know and the truth that we
Know we do not know and then there is the Truth                                    wdo We do not know that we not know and that makes
all the difference.*  
We search for the truth and by definition it makes no
Difference  defines what already is true whether
We know it or not and que sera sera but there is the
Other Truth that is and is not that may be the source
Of the miraculous; the magical that exists between
Zero and One.  The time between Consciousness to
Unconsciousness to consciousness again.  A time of
The merest moment or eternity We do not know and
We cannot even know we do not know until we do.
May the Force be with you and may God bless you.
*A paraphrase of our former Secretary of Defence
If the fabric of my semi pleasant semi-
Bland reality were suddenly to be ripped
Open who would be there beckoning me
A demon or a friend most likely a jester and
Would I go with him?  I do not know but if
Not would I regret it to my dying day? For
This I am certain he will not come back to
Invite me again and dear heart already I am
Torn that I a child must part my with love of
Folly.  Go knowing the folly of God is better
Than the wisdom of men and  I am growing old
What is the advantage of staying here if you are
Still young and fair and foolish elsewhere?
I had just begun reading the preface of  William Makepeace Thackeray's "Vanity Fair"  when it came upon me to write this poem.  I now shall read further and see if  he also felt perplexed and whether he chose to accept the jester invitation.
My love slips away.
Through my fingers
Around corners and
I do not see her.  Can
Not find her anymore
I cannot control my
Dreams but she will
Always be there to hear
Hear me say once again
I love you. Just things
You cannot control and
Things she cannot do Be
In the big world where she
Will always be my little
Girl.  She was there with
Me in my dream last night
Will she come again tonight
So I can tell her I love her still
I do not know but I know I will
Love her always. Till my dreaming
Stops and we are together again.


For Lis
With  the sun overhead till in the dusk it
Descends and here is plenty good and fruitful
Are you are ready for your rest- now come
To the table of the family that you love.  Give
Thanks.  Then wake no more for the dream
You lost begins now again. You have come
Come home.
At last.   You could dream of flying but now
You have done that and other wonders too. So
Quickly the light fantastic loses it's attraction
But to have your love in your arms that is all
Of heaven.  Who could ask for anything more?
Wake no more.  Stay with me.  No need to travel
Higher  Dreams in search of dreams are done. The
Lord says now that you  are here "stay with me. Do
Not go.  Hear me" says the Lord of all that is
Stay don't you know there is no where better to be
I am the Western* wind that you have so long sought
  
Wake no more for I am with thee the alpha /omega
One Forever and eternity till the cows come home.
Hear me and wake no more. I pray to be where I am
Who I am and with who I love and who loves me
To  dream a better dream and wake no more.
*Google "Oh Western Wind When Wilt Thou Blow" a geat anonymous poem from the middle ages you may not know.
Fame; Riches; Great Ability
Why would anyone leave all
These behind? Such is the final
Journey.  To what end?  To no
End. Of such dreams are made
There must be Another place.
And those who are poor;  un-
Known; with no greatness of
Ability nor distinction of birth
Who die in their youth are given
A head start -and those so loved
Oft go before us on the greatest
Journey all--To Another place
Where life may pause but never
Ends. All the promises of God
Not yet here are  fully realized.



Where you have gone
I will follow. For Olde
Lange Syne
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