The future calls
uncertain in its amplitude
lost too often in the moods
of past that’s merely passed away;
yet we are born into another day
of all we’re meant to be
conceived upon the altar of
this love of all that is.
The anger of the ages
rushes through these mortal forms
seeking an expression of its truth
within the might and power
of the tone of all divinity,
but it seeks not pain or wounds
nor does it need to win or lose
a particle of all we’ve come to be.
Instead it seeks to rise
from base through heart
on then into and through
this mind we are and back again;
scanning far and near
within a glance of glowing
fluids of liquidity -
pure and deep, a crystal flowing
within a consciousness complete
that speaks in tones of our deliverance.
Where every paradox is held
dissected, redirected, born again
resurrected in this realm beyond all pain
where spirit speaks and soul responds
to particles of flesh forever
growing young again.
And so the future calls,
incandescent in its beauty
awaiting nothing more
than our response...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .