When I am thrown back to
Shades of dying
Through walking breathe Universe
In search of resurrection
To lighten the tongue softly
With Star talk
Offering scores of Gods
The ability
To shine their ego
In a constant crown
Of constellation
With extravagant names
Of ancient Kings
Fierce hunters brandishing weapons pulled and ready to pierce
And women with the intuitive smoke
Of oracles

When I am in this space
Of mist and vague illusion
And the ambient effects
Of wine
Or others that might bend my sky enough
To see beyond it
And into others

I come before a Father
God with sheepish grin
And barely covered
His arm outstretched
And finger pointed before it
To pinpoints, brightnesses
Scattered carefully
And covering the great map of the infinite

And I would wander through
The rest of my days
Thinking on his smile
And wondering why it would look that way