He sings with me as if in a dream
on the rolling hills of green
In a voice so clear every man can hear
Every word we mean -
Backed-by-a-choir, he beats on his tamborine
He's soft; and slightly off-key -
We are the ones that we want to love, and fortunate are we -
His lips, they purse around each syllable. His hair is moved in the breeze -
He is the spirit I've been channeling; Forever He and Me -
Two-by-two the dyads move,
Swaying in the dance -
The sun, a bobble, shines in our eyes-
By the Universe entranced -
Two are joined by the choir, the sun
And the face of the dancing crowds -
The cone-of-power confirms the manifest,
Then we ascend to the clouds -
I started writing this poem in 1995 and finished it about a year ago. Originally it was about a union between Man and God. It reads like story of lovers in song at a music festval. It could be either, or both. Even as I added it to hellopoetry, I was tweeking it. Think of it as lovers being called up to The Rapture. Their Savior is their love. The subject and the object are both male, but in poetry what's in a pronoun anyway?
