northeasterly wind pounding upon
the windows and red brick building
cocooned with melting ice
and soft snow below windows
listening to gregorian chants-
cats spooned by my feet
a treat to feel this still-
quiet jumps in between
each rich nourishing note--making up
a melody to wear as a cape
colors of rich burgundy,
roasted chestnuts, and
concord grapes- sitting in
an urn of burnished mahogany
voices weaving between ears
a scarf of unending years--warming
skull's chilled fears in their tracks
taming terror on contact--blessing
all who weep honestly--for any weather
offers a splendid opportunity for meeting
together in prayer--in rooms created for
that purpose--or plainly finding on one's own:
every chair in the house could have been carved by a soul
full well knowing--it would be you or me
sitting upright upon it--to center and to meditate
on the throne of one's choosing--the amethyst
and chalcedony glow in the late afternoon prayers
we share in pure time and space, whittled
by our own intentions--purely penetrating
time and space with positive compositions-
preventing parallel worlds to fold,
as we all uncover spirit's
solitude emeshed
with the grace
of angels
ready
to fly
Kate Lamberg
11/8/12
2 comments:
Love this
sis
Thank you, Kushal.
Post a Comment