Through the Moon

Angels flying through the moon
I seek, I speak, I swoon
within this bliss of beauty's form
between the you and I and all that is
while stars are born
living and reliving life in form

to be reborn yet once again
within their seeming falling
while their light abides within all darkness
calling, falling - melding, blending
within these very forms
that we have come to know as flesh
seeking just to intermesh in love

and as we reach to seek
one tiny particle of utter being
infinity begins to chime within
each word, each phrase expressed
within the primal beauty that we see
as phases of the moon
in the cyclic nature of this earth
begin to speak in utter truth

of oceans that have swelled
and come to dwell in mountains high
as trees reach for the glory of the sky
branching out within a future
of the nature that we know
as pure remembering
in planes of waving sweet-grass
that e'er return to spring and summer's call

in a renaissance of past becoming now
within a future calling out
as angels fly right through the moon
and beam their meaning down into
the very core of earth
ascending then through every thing
touching and affecting
every form that lives this in between
of known and knowing purity
completing this, the form
of all that is . . .


Copyright© 2000 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take Me Home...