As the sunrise of Creation
blended into gentle hues
of Love and loveliness,
He touched me into Life.
And Light. And welcomed me.
Among a million others,
who surpassed the telepathic
to omniscience, and believed.
Then His thoughts as soft as butterflies
escorted me from out the Womb
of God and godliness,
and wished me very well.
And I fell on wobbly crutches,
to support a soul whose longing
had no reason but to witness
what it knew and saw as such.
Then, like the distant, teasing whispers
of the grasses that conceal
snakes, and pits, and loneliness,
"he" called his foolish listeners.
And whistled soft his tune -
that soon had gathered us about
eager to experiment and play
and lose remembrance of the Womb.
As his soft and searching phrases
of awareness filtered through
cascading dreams of realness,
he grasped my hand and led me.
And fed me, then, to leave me on my own -
with a feeling of importance
that perfection seems to breed
in those who build their throne.
As my mind perceived the colors
of a rainbow sifted once
into patches of materialness,
I could not comprehend.
And when I neared to see this art,
I found I could not quench my thirst
And begged for eyes to capture paintings -
And lost the knowledge of His part.
But I yearned to just become one
with the colors of this world
disregarding an uneasiness
that I should have understood;
and could have, if I'd tried;
but I'd wanted all too much
to absorb these new perceptions
that my blinded eyes had dyed.
Then, like a symphony in pieces,
orphaned notes besieged my mind
full of pleas and pleasantness
that held me captive;
and enwrapped me in their hymns
til resistance seemed so vain,
and I felt but slight dejection
yielding to sonorous whims.
And in listening to their singing,
I drifted farther from the Truth
of Peace and peacefulness
to what touched my yearning mind,
and, in time, absorbed my soul -
til I could not be without
their hypes and hypnotisms,
and relinquished my control.