It
symbols life, to voyage soul, bound to a squall. I live
it
grace, to sing for koans, a sacred talisman—an inner
Kingdom.
It’s core a treasure, even a relic, a sinner’s
voice.
We fly for fey, bound to flesh, feeling twilight. I
wrestle
life, three shots in, spinning through webs. It’s
more
a dream, to drill for waves, counting measures. I
live
it bold, a mystic Christ, flooded with Spirit. We
smile
in fact, to live it gold, despite the downs. It’s more
than
fable, ever to stargaze, tiptoeing lemons. More for
love,
a cosmic gate, a mystic mare. We strike a soul, to
unlock
god, thriving within. Indeed, ever boundless,
even
silent, sorely unlatched; but ever God, a telic love,
soaring
through mountains. How to sigh, to drain a maze,
rinsing
woes? I ask, to seek for thoughts, where light is
warranted.
It’s made of marble, a christic cross, racing
through
souls. I feel for joy, to witness cries, a person
reborn.
Is he floating, a painted sky, as mystic as baptism.
I
ask, fully aware, to usher Light.
