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Poem
the Forgotten One
                        ( an invitation to innocence )

There once was an angel
    who walked upon the moon,
       when east was east
           and west was west.
 Looking and looking
     for the season of soon
        through parks of dark
          and gardens overgrown.
   Looking and looking for
       what she had always known
           she would one day find
               in the eyes of the mind
                  and the hearts of the wind -
                       the unsaddened words of the Forgotten One,
                               “Come in. Come in.
                                 I have been waiting and waiting
                                      and wanting and wanting
                                           always and always
                                               only you.”
“You can not bring
     the thousand things,
         the dust of the earth
             and the rags of kings,
                 the broken songs
                    that no one sings of
                       the hundred gods and
                            their wanderings.
    You can not bring
         a shred of these
            nor anything but the only thing
                that breathes and breathes
                   through the seething leaves
                        that never rest
                             in the void and voyage of the branching trees
                                    moving east and west 
                                         under the kind and blinded sun.
                                             ‘You are the one and only one in everyone.”
        “Come out. Come out
              wherever you are, 
                  out of the hypnotic unceasing din
                       circling through earth’s first scar
                            on your journeying skin
                               from the demented dimension 
                                   that selects regrets and forgets 
                                        that, taken to the nth degree,
                                             anything less 
                                                    than love is a form
                                                         of insanity.”
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