Low to High

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Need expressed within the schemes
of all too human dreams.
Crying out, the pain that lasts -
surpassing all the images of past.
Who really ever was to blame at all...?

My fault, my fault, my grievous fault...
Realized, the great forgiveness dawns.
Bringing strength into the many hearts
of pawns that never had a chance to play
within the freedom only innocence supplies.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Dreams of youth pushed past the borders
of their all-too social lives. Self-indulged,
their feelings bulged into the intellect -
unheeded, still the soul lived on and on.

Past the mindset of
their mesmerized repression.
Deep into the core of all they were.
Spirit that insists on its revival.
Unknowingly, their movement
somehow spurred by something
greater than themselves.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa.
Damn the thought of sin
that must expand into infinity.
I'd rather live and love it all -
beyond the karma of an age
and all their chosen thoughts
of guilt and sin.

For if any former life lived on
within those earthen shells, the spell
of love could never be denied.
The meaning fades within
the course of their denial.

While here and now, the skies
expound love's meaning.
Rising high within the flight
of light that leads into the depths
and heights of everything
that truly lives...

? Michaelette ?

5/25/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .