I admit, there is no lack of wanting
for my Holy Time with Thee
A blessed Majesty,
akin to full inversion in
a warm, still, six-sided body
of luminescent honey, sticky sweet
is the nectar reaped
from the Scepters of Seraphim
Glazing my electric form
in the Image of Thy Son
Baked firm is my clay
in the Kiln of a Fiery One
Wherein I’m warmed within
the flames of a Golden Soular Sun
Steam-cleaned in th’purifying
Stream of Divinity
Transfixed and transformed
in transparent Transfiguration
I am the Stillness of Awareness
in this place of Timeless Space
Awash in tears of reverie,
I gaze upon Thy Face
I am safe, free from harm,
in the arms of Holy Mother
She's my Fortress of Protection,
Thy Immaculate Conception of no-self
Thus, I AM that I AM
If I am not, I must urgently peel off
this very last veil that casts the shadow
of my disconnect
So, when my proud, pierced, pulsing heart
exhales an aura balloon, engulfing the room,
I pray it envelops everyone and everything
I shan’t yet forget
But if I do,
I’ll blow an infinitely bigger balloon,
That holds the Universe
in quiet peace, to fall asleep,
wound 'round the Wholly Fire,
in the Womb of Thy Room
And when I’m done,
I shall return to my cavernous cocoon
Wherein, I’ll snuggle up to sleep,
then soon thereafter dream
of sprouting patterned wings, so pretty
I must flutter them about
in a gently blowing breeze,
for a time, 'til I fall through the sky,
like autumn leaves
from the Branches of Thy Tree
to the Earth, I am returned
where I wake up from my dream ~