The Pilgrimage

the dark raven beckons my soul amidst quaint cackling of the jackals mangling hisses I witnessed flowers bloom as the giant oaks began to kneel at my feet I witnessed his face why I heard his voice the mauve sky rumbled the clay ground crumbled at this beautiful coming sweet Jerusalem in view the clouds took a bow as the sun rose over the weeping sea the earth lifted tilted pouring salted tears into the ravishing springs leading to rivers edge where naught is bathing my heart on fire at this coming desire upon mount olives Zion is removed my soul grooved the master's plans created in his hands a holy reunion of spirit and man