Wednesday, 11 November 2015

Vol. 2. / 65.) The Door Opens . . .




The door opens then it closes behind me
The way was barred but I have stepped through
The angel’s footsteps recede and I am alone:
Found in a country both known, and unknown
I have been here many times, yet each time is new.
Ahead, and in the quickening sight, I see a rain:
A curtain of falling light sparkling as it breaks
Glinting, and shimmering in silver drops,
A precipitation, continuous and full of delight;
I laugh: I see the end; I run, and go right through
And the singing of birds goes with me, in, too
The One is there, and is delighted, love overflows
Love tallies the ribbons of my extended loving
Where I know nothing, and in nothing know all:
The Light is there, and leaps in arcs, the rain whirls,
Around me the silver rain turns in lighted swirls
High and low, and side to side, weaving the pattern
That will tell my story in ragged writing: hidden,
Kept in pockets of the air that are in land forms
And in the senses, and in the spirit, and in the soul
Touching there, and dividing unto life and light
Wherever there was a heart’s-leap of welcome
Wherever there is a sudden standing as if on tiptoes
A sudden reaching for what was known but not seen:
Pursuing through the slaying rain, a perfect love.



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