She comes to me, my Guardian Angel
And I apprehend with my little heart shaped
tool of ken, the luminosity of the Source
Crashes through the aurora into the
Stratosphere and she is near here supposing
the infinite beginning
All over again
an integrity, bright  white light
Without temperature, she says, “Yes,
You are a mortal immortal…”

she demonstrates her
torrid honor, dignity and warm
Fervor always available in her cosmic &
Iridescent timetable, her dispatch of
Provisions astonishes my worry,

I call her Miss
Instance immemorial,  
She warns of the fans of death and the boon
cosmos encompassing the faithful
The synchronicities she broke apart
And mended, to inseminate the nick of
Time with God-seeds sown into my heart-
she gave me love engulfing time…