Day: Jan 7, 2012
It washed right through my many-coated
crude defensive multi-moated
barrier-reefs of weathered ways
so carefully built in recent days of
darkness. Your mouth a waterfall
of wonder struck my stupid wall
like thunder and, to cut the story short,
I, defeated by your beam, arose
through empty spaces springing
over frozen traces; ice blaspheming
all the writhing awesomeness of love
with pseudo-caution seeming from above.
When I survey the patterns of my life
the jewels displayed there force me to confess
that through the difficulties and all strife
some hidden influence negates distress.
Perchance celestial keepers guard my days —
angelic wardens working winsomely —
my heart intention with them interplays:
All yearning is to them a litany.
But yet in darker moments I can doubt
that seraphim take interest in my span;
then from the blue a gem comes sparkling out
and serendipity unveils the plan.
Thus, even though some paths are incomplete,
somehow I always land upon my feet.
© 2012, Alan Morrison