The Telescope

A raft of glass
I cannot lay upon it
but am encased within.
Embraced within
the love space.
Bliss in be-longing.
It feels so good to float
on the lens of God’s eye.
In Holy alignment I am
Seeing and being All
leaves no room for courage
or the agony of doubt.
Pale hearts blind to the apple’s red.

A boat of flesh
I cannot swim beyond it
but must bide my Time on board
as this river seeks
the Sea of Stars.
Bliss in be-ing
Cleansed by the weeping.
Shut the doors and wonder why 
You feel so alone.
Forget the beginning and wonder why 
You feel so old.
In time, out of touch
and hungry for something

What is this strange vessel?
Dancing on the waves
I do not sink
but rather climb
a bridge of green mist
heaving breath of the Earth
as she stands lip to loving lip
with her Mother,
a tide of Great Secrets flowing
black inside a ring of fire.
Bliss in be-coming.
Six dancing sisters pull the edges
of the Seventh and
the black pupil unfolds;
the purple iris blooms.
The Universe is not expanding,
she says. It is thinning.
A drop of blood, a drop of ink
mingling with an ocean.
Prepare your crafts for
dimensional d i f f u s i o n.

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