brown-eyed angel, don't you see,
problems, as you find they surround us,
are grander than you or me?
make peace with that fact,
try as hard as we now do for you
not to fault one if one should twist
in the problems' abyss,
its just a twist, and all returns
by and by to rightful peace,
one moment before could be's bliss.
it is appointed unto men to die once.
but dear me, by your care and custody,
you'd make a phoenix of me yet!
how many carnations now and still like this,
now, i'm as guilty as you are
chiseling out the same role
till illumination widens the eye
and loosens the grip on the hunter's bow
and the hunter's stick. truly!
we are made happy only after we are made sick.
every other night, after the glorious rise
and ostentatious charioting through our cosmos,
and deep boring the canals of innerspace,
riling the wildest vertigos,
earning the calmest confessions,
wringing mass dry of energy,
heaving the chests for need of air,
heaving the chests and mesmerized to sleep,
every other night to live reborn---
and the nights between to die the old death.
this man is your favorite appointee,
and appointing is your favorite thing to do.
how is it i got so lucky?
and what am i to do with you?
go on now, angel, make your mistakes.
this road is made clean by those
who stumble in the cracks.
run your course and run it hard.
retrospect? nah! you don't have to look back,
the past is carried beside you,
what do you think your wings are made of?
someday you'll be comfortable knowing this.
today, you pretend to be dog piss in the cracks.
how unbecoming is that! tsk, tsk. tat-tat.
but the fold welcomes you nonetheless,
for today you are one of us,
groomless bride of the universe.
give all to forward and none reverse.
but you're so young now! and human.
may take years along this route and pace
for you to see clear what it is you have,
who you are and who surrounds you.
we all took the dive to live it out.
as your years glow on, the glow increases.
it will, i assure you it will, illuminate
the earliest hours of the dawn
that is to be your first day in eden.
you, a brown-eyed eve. what eyes has your adam!
these next years will be preamble,
let's hope not to a should-have-been story.
you'll want to tell grandchildren your secrets.
you may have to admit some miracles come
at the expense of others that never do.
caution yourself now and them later,
look to fools who try to steer rivers
and see how they are always bested,
time over time, their beds are flooded,
they wake up each night beforehand, sweating.
some parts of nature we can fight
and for a time hold back,
but never knowing such work is good,
other parts, that look straight into us,
freeze our bowstrings, and whisper,
let it go and be free that way,
let it go wherever it may.
and we retire on an empty stomach
but a full heart and head ready with dreams,
and a morning of endless possibilities.
step out of this moment with me, angel,
enjoy a light of free mind here without now
and the echoes that accompany this great hall,
and feel its reverb within your hollows,
and try to remember your true voice
in this ageless chorus, speaking to you now.
you are the laughter and lover of laugh,
you were the first song of happiness,
and your verses have stretched out,
so far, forever and promise to continue on.
you let yourself down, only for awhile,
to lend yourself to what is becoming
a great aching universal smile,
and its rather hard forgetful work
to be part of the musculature,
confusing to encounter retrograde,
but you choose flesh each time as aspect
you conjure a new verse of laughter,
to test it out, while its served,
and you always seem to forget it---you're its chef.
but the fold welcomes you nonetheless,
for today you are one of us,
groomless bride of the universe.
give all to forward and none reverse.
and this is us, with every lifetime born,
the conversation of dynasties continue,
in a show of grace toward understanding
and an honest display of confusion.
the aspects of laughter and sorrow
meet each time, as though the first time,
through a rise and fall of simple minds,
swirling in a wildfire of possibility
and excite the architects of everyone
to build on buildings, and why not?
to treat the genius of each other,
as we come in the form of woman or man,
like the fossils of extinct forms
that lay now dormant as bedrock and fuel,
and elevate the living tissue of mankind
to its coming moment of apex,
the prime medium we channel through,
like no other species before,
and testify this mode of being
is self-knowing and self-assured.
and you thought you were here
to make mistakes and be chased by them!
how is it you are always this adorable?
sometimes i wish i could be so forgetful,
but then who would remind you
the conversation of time is best delivered
to the realm by the behavior of people
whether it is or is not understood
by the active mind of people
while they are still here?
however mind-boggling it is at first,
the fold welcomes you nonetheless,
for today you are one of us,
groomless bride of the universe.
give all to forward and none reverse.
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