It, upon me, in waves of warmth.. Revelations of who I am. What and who I may be.
There I sat in communion, terrible and beautiful, the new, through the passing of a chalice. With a memory that held me.
And the barer of the dead did I become.
There in this shaking earth, did I touch the infinite and and eternal, with creased palms.
A sentinel of a closed book Writ of me, and held with secret all Of now and ever will.
I, and all the mettle I could muster. Did now see, the complications of the clock And I in congress with spherical resign. , came upon the simplicity of the pains made easy, by slight of hand and trick of thought .
yet
My maker did not hail or send salutation But began me and left
And to wonders did I fall to the cool of air and crimson sky
To falls furious strokes by harlequin and natural jest