Friday, October 8, 2021

Transformative Path of the Masterless Prophets

The dreams of the men
Who slept in the manger
During the winter
Were mostly 
Nonsense.
Yet, among them
Was a young addict
An educated boy
An awakened soul.

What he missed most
He couldn't let go
And what he let go
Haunted him,
What he saw both amazed him
And came to
Crush him.
Pulverize him
To steam,
Invisible steam
To cycle through
From the ocean
To the clouds
To the snow and the rain
All his pain
Squeezed out
He thought he
Would not survive
The whole 
Transformative pain.

But said haunting ghosts
Dove fast through
Sparing no time
To catch the young man
Who gave 
With all his might.

To have seen love
Walk like lightning
Upon the shores 
Of outstanding sight
Depth of night
Milky breaths of cold
Shining fire 
From the mind
To the skin
Of the ocean
And shimmering, again.

And then the sound,
Water bubbling,
Sipped by the sand
Waves gulping
Foam Cymbals 
Thin water stretching
Like a hand up the
Spine 
Inside the dress
The salty of dance
Was the sand 
And the smell of moon
Peppered with brine.

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