finally some light can settle
in the hidden places
between one moment
to another
the wholes of time are filled
with dirt
with blue horror
like on the bottom of the sea
as inside, so outside
as above, so below
they used to say
but light there is a medium
of refraction for darkness
in this desolate place
of destruction
for one to exist
to be real
to feel safe
to have it all
another should be
trashed, diminished,
disfigured, humiliated
not in innocent metaphors
not in unkind dreams
not in works of art
but out there inside or
on the streets busy
with people
such is the gentleness of light
and the merciful god of unity
in the design of heart
when we can still recognize
the human kind
I am still standing here
and quietness can come
cause I've already cried
an ocean of light
the face of man is still burning
in the name of God missing an "o"
while some "map of the problematique"
is lying naked in the sun
still,
don't stop the rock & roll
the blissful oblivion
this vital movement
into forgiveness
