Saturday, 16 January 2016

V. 2. / 134.) The Golden Bubbles . . .




They say that life comes out of death
And new terms out of our battles won
But sunk too completely deep in dread
The heart doesn’t see it for a good long while:
What if your home were swallowed up
In another’s spirit that was not as your own
And every visible corner in it ---
Swamped and stolen from you --- inside ---
Oh, the pain is great where opposing spirits meet!
And the battle is not over when the visitor leaves:
He leaves his brush behind him
Ceaselessly painting himself over every holy surface.
Wherever you look you see it, and you grieve
Grieving deeply that you cannot reach him
Tears are your only solace
He cannot understand or hear you --- he is deaf
And you are, too, if you will not forgive.
But it is all too much, too much, too much ---
More than you can bear --- too much, too much!
Then a fall: a letting go --- and a miracle, plain and true!
But how could you tell anyone --- they would only laugh!
Glistening golden globes of light --- braving --- floating
Buoyant, beautiful --- big bubbles of lovely golden light!
Bouncing gently, here and there --- touching: healing
Meeting: clearing --- cleansing life --- throughout your house!
And in help such as this --- you cling to it! --- And climb out!




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