She Believes In Lavender Moons
Introduction: one of the nice aspects of having an oeuvre as a poet is the ability to see where you have changed over the years. this is such a poem where i can see the step from the eristic with a quiver full of quodlibets to the fruition of a close relationship with God. here is where it begins, there is an addendum below
she believes in lavender moons
wishes upon stars that are galactic in breadth
cherishes the thoughts of turquoise turtle doves
gives credence to an undiscovered planet
whose position in the heavens will birth
age of love and redemption for humans
where raspberry grandmothers
sit in lemon drop rocking chairs
while ruminating in blueberry neopalliums
licorice trees span the meadow
adorned with strawberry flowers
while rainbow-colored grasses wave
in a peppermint breeze
she believes in angels
i do not believe in angels
leaping from many cultures meaning courier
first appearing with the Persians, or was it Sumeria
wings attached to a human body, a piqued imagination
they were believed to be messengers from the gods
also, there was a guardian angel in the mix
where the Annunaki crawled out
a mind riffling the neurons, quarks in creation
Swedenborg or was it Aquinas' hierarchy
Nike, Hermes, Blake, Augustine, Gabriel, Raphael
Isis in wings, the names mix in an elan vital
feeding upon each other
where i have no miracle
no dendrites, no neurons, no synapses
tho i believe that we are beyond cannibalism
not by much, but some distance
credit to humanity
where humanity moves forward
i possess the notion of a Creator
moved to a reflection
deposited by the rains upon the plains
the animal gods could not survive
these narcissistic glimpses
this led to mirrors, statues, and myth
the growing anthropomorphic
deposited on the door
of an evolving consciousness
by some haphazard form of epistasis
so where does that leave this era, this orphan
just another smiling idiot i suppose
trying to make it on a planet
of pharaohs and fidos
i do not understand the thoughts she conveys
sharing a persiflage of shoes and sealing wax
realms of cabbages and kings
where once as a species we removed fleas
to fill the time between sleep and hunting
now coffee and Proust's
depth of any conversation
revealing the patricians are the plebians
in the end, is dust
at the feat of some monument
crumpled with time and neglect
as is love scribbled upon a tree
as i too fill a moment
scribble a napkin with "manumit"
she sits across the table, weaving dreams
connecting thoughts in a voice too gentle
we share coffee
the hardness within stands in awe
that such gentleness exists
had the world such imagination and faith
rather than the hypocrisy of its' institutions
our existence might have taken different paths
doubters such as i would be forced
to cling to brighter visions
we share coffee
i wait for no demise of illusion
or new consciousness
greet death with but a modicum of faith
and that is the reward of this coffee
i leave her with a demitasse of belief
humanity will survive its' mouth
and rectum
because there are those who see
lavender moons, turquoise turtle doves
with such faith, a billion suns become one
where hope dwells
stirs within me feelings
i do not understand
where the shadows within
wait for enlightenment
hope that the world is without end
and arrives soon
which i admit, i seriously doubt will
yet, leave a modicum of faith
wandering in the shadows within
Fergus Falls 97
Addendum: thousands of years before the concept of a soul and an after life Egypt had them. After you died, on your way to your afterlife, you had to travel through the Hall of Maat. The god Anubis weighed your heart. The god Thoth (pictured above) recorded the findings. And the god Ammut stood by and if you did not pass muster....Ammit would consume the heart of the unworthy, preventing the impure soul from being granted immortality and joining Osiris in Aaru....there you have it, reward and punishment. i was never a fan of Carl Jung's Collective Unconscious however folks, there is a good case for it.
for more on Angels, Youtube:
The Hierarchy of Angels: Seraphim, Cherubim, and Thrones
Copyright © Timothy Ray | Year Posted 2022
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