A MINISTER RETIRES: SOLILOQUY

A MINISTER RETIRES : SOLILOQUY I arise as infant Phoenix from Akasha ashes counterparts frozen with foibles intact a still Arctic of death sheath for recalibration Source Light breathes into fontanelle slowly sleepily Sekmet my doula in full attendance mane of flaming gold rebirthing is a peeling Eye of Horus given a new sphere fringed with trinklets of tears exploding from narrow roads of endless debate drowning misqualified alphabets as dung mites on mushrooms under cold tap Trampling temples of fallen crests in takkies I don after tight armour of stick-on sly smiles airports and landing circuits blow as flimsy masks in South Easter three terms of office sacrilegious time to imprint what was already foretold A reflection I sombrely seek in languid lamplight at a bed bearing matrices dismantling It’s not there ! Where are pieces of the puzzle in pentagons I failed to reckon turning my back on a disappointed bathotic vision flying to fulfill a mission of combining silicon with carbon minds with Hearts in God’s play with forms for happiness ? Is the reflection in rivers I can no longer hear as pebbles pine in sortilege for ill used linearity down paths of broken glass my kundalini a rod of dead wood in a tomb centre of Sakara or maybe on a pile in the garage ready for a great bonfire whilst I start to wipe away hasty speeches bored back-benchers secretaries depositing secrets ? I seek this disappearing reflection in offspring make-upping games of six sense futures pulling Agarthan darkness from low note cemeteries or open air discos AI watching for names or photographs it could crunch or repose heritage posters smashed stolen then hidden historians writhing in shame Slowly I tear notes of workshops unmanifested White Papers incomplete legislation not passed little love sigils from infatuated girlies bones softening then regenerating when I remember my curriculum is not complete really I am ageless even after covid and coronary thrombosis saying the least In which dimension lies my youthful cheeks or other Wheels of Fortune black hair not greyed a father never embraced my mother at her crying sewing machine hailed by ancient Dogans who know my wayward ways of sense fulfilment ? Suddenly a trout springs next to my sinking hook or was it a gangster lost ? perhaps vacant dollars I caught on rows of predictable faces podiums polished by workers I sought to hold in a heartbeat no-one could distinguish from controlled chatter subtle lies of manic mental real estate In an instant a dragonfly displays its translucent wings mirroring patterns of my dark amber irises Can I lift a paintbrush as shadows fall to dissipate memories of State Capture in Fire and Water I now must befriend tip-toeing ethereal dreams when wigs or false lashes sink into oceanic depth? Air the witness as I walk a solitaire beach this reflection I seek still emphatically eludes Grace comes minuscule in moon shades or pale protea nectar to give saintly shape to feelings encrusted with rust or dinners I could not taste hundreds of them having to survive a quagmire of Reptilians All falls away as Saturn appears for his share of karma in this year of eight, eclipsing my own six zero plus two calling back his protégés from dramas doctrinally acted Socrates or Shakespeare pointing out stages I trod and trod and trod my mill not stopping for a breathing whisper to hear a call of Gaia reintegrate her lush fallen lips cathedral feet dilating Heart of lulling fruits This Reconnection has no lines or silk panties doctors’ needles or peppermint teas whilst its patterns I cannot decipher or reach with trade agreements fashion mobiles fancy words bright ideas tangy thoughts or indigo sheen foreheads of daughters and son It is just Sky with I a speck, maybe a hook to an ajar door or portal I read about in sci-fi as rampant lost kid perhaps there is a latch or key I need to find once more into another flower of life from this grid experience My calling to diffuse into Rays is several more lifetimes away seraphim cannot yet hear my mournful sighs or see these sorrowed smiles wily embeds are too deep to crush with takkied toes unsure on this blue-green of highs and lows semblance of my Orion traverses Solace is to rotate my spine to live another life serving not an irresistible country of contrasts giving vent to the epitome of human dualities or an egoic will sense pleasures mind of magical chi, white and black but try for freeing my soul yokes from moving perceptions slipping away to new dawn times or perhaps attempt for my Maker’s indecipherable inscrutable Heart Will I embrace this solace ? I tread on half awake tagging a forlorn shadow watching for lions ©GhairoDanielsPoetry &Song2024