Angels, dance with me

[Bill]

 

Angels, dance with me

 

here i am

Father, let not thy light go out

Angels, dance with me

 

i am the objective

i am the subjective

i am the center of this universe

we call life

Angels, dance with me

 

i sit beneath the Stars

and there is an indelible truth in presence

as i am being bathed in their light

they softly cajole me to a certain balance

between awakening and sleep

Angels, dance with me

 

that which we create

we destroy

to thus clear the ethereal

from the seemingly real

and yet there is but one

consciousness

and it is i

Angels, dance with me

 

as the axis of all perceivable existence

it is i who embraces yet the past

and the future

and the letting of the stream of my now

that flows from memory to dreams

from instinct to delusion

and the juxtapositions of thought

Angels, dance with me

 

my “soul” remembers a thing

a place

a feeling

a being

a seeing

of when

and then the dissipation of the connect

is affected

by my suspicions

and derelictions

and i realize my limitedness

within my in-finiteness

and the Angels have come

Angels, dance with me

 

they are here clothed in a dark light

undressing their regality

that we may understand what shine is

what light is

what magic is

what life is

what is . . .

Angels, dance with me

 

the gardens beyond conception

are awaiting the planting of the Seed

and we idly stand by

as the child in an eschewed quizzical wonder

of the process

as we await the harvest

that we may eat of the fruits

with no hand soiled

yet we sweat upon our untoiled brow

and somehow by grace

we stand

Angels, dance with me

 

i but ask for a thing

a kiss of understanding

that completes this cyclic chase

for wholeness

for the Soul-less-ness acts

we enact upon our “Self”

that of Self and each other

has extricated my true Joy

and supplanted it with

this dull ache

that pervades the breaths of Hope

yet we endure . . .

somehow

Angels, dance with me

 

as i sit here awaiting the rising Sun

i come to realize

that my eyes have failed me

i have been blinded

by the darkness

that dark light

and this night

my thirsting soul says

i shall again go to the Stream

of Spiritual congruity

where the Four Rivers meet

that flows to that Mystical

Ocean of one

for we are the Sons

and the Daughters of Creation

and i will enjoin the who

of all that i see of what i be

and cast off these leaden shoes

and submit this final humble request

Angels, dance with me . . .

 

© 23 February 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.