Ask the Messenger
on Earth’s circumvallate
he would be laid,
lifeless upon the lap
of his Mother
and on that day would be named
now and forevermore,
God’s Gether… for in that day
are all tears gathered
look at them, and fear
the things to come, think
ever deeper now, and greet
this mourning, hear nature asking
where, oh where, is he, who
as our companion, travelled(3)
all space-time freed of human form
and feminine traits, and he
self-named his essence, I-EAGLE-TWO…
in memory of his father
mystery of womb, wind, sky, and
slaughter; held in that “eye” of awe
as the sunflower’ diurnal motion
laying openly upon the roof
of this world, ever watching down
calling gently to those “friends”
and his enemies, laughing hauntingly
at the latter’ lathering fear filled sweats
as this “(????????)”,
have you yet guessed this guest?
at day’s dusk, and then again
by dawn’s redeeming draw
his reach is long, and into and through
your minds he roams, teasing your thoughts
twisting your faux beliefs
as does Loki shift from witch to fly
and consumes your roasted heart
he, is that warrior’ bathed
master of that “Fifth Discipline”
“fostering aspiration” in the minds that seek
developing “reflective conversation”
between the strong and meek
and through a universal rapport
promotes “understanding complexity”
“Systems thinking”
this is his drinking water’ brine
at his stand beyond,
as “Keeper of the Western Gate”,
within this universal bourse,
upon those “circles of causality”
he lends his hand to those who can
to those who cannot, his whist
he scends upon their brows,
and boy! is it ever steamy!
beaming out similes and hyperboles
and itchy knees to his and hers,
theirs and those, whose noses know
the profound truth is fast approaching
critically fast, that blue
heated mass of spiritual essence
that was promised to all of earth’s children
that this “center” of the sun will come
returning “hell” to earth to render
those who earned their promised whipping
for tipping life in their favor
so, do look towards your sun,
focus in upon that inner aye
and glimpse your own future’s butcher
and do fear what was foretold to be…
Copyright © Michael Walkerjohn | Year Posted 2014
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