His Face on My Path

 

I am not sure...

  Of what it means...

 Rather, 

   I will sit in you, because what else is there

  of this life, Bona fide? 

 Perhaps then a session, 

where I surrender time 

        and again, 

  Getting lost into and falling without control- 

      Plugged in. 

 No thing matters much here-hit a coherence of block. 

  Sage stalked too many realms 

 On her walks. 

 Had I bled into you, 

The ground was seeping, sharp with shards. 

Puddled at my feet, blood and mud. 

  You were a daybreak, a ghost, the devil, in cast 

taunting my sight. Taunting me in love. In faces. 

  In persecutions. In the torment of a deeply sinister psychology veiling mine eyes. 

  You flash faces before me, a known weakness. 

Captured only in my blindness to your tactic, pulling at a wound in a little girl's soul. 

  If it wasn't for the art of engaging from the spaces I do not know, oh how indeed, 

  You bound me, 

Using mine own love against me. 

  True foolery, upon my part- 

A razor's edge. A gamble done by a naive heart. 

  Truth be told, 

It had to be done, 

  For she was a naive thing wasn't she? 

What darkness in man could she see, 

  If not then, 

 For You?!?

  You are a sweet buzzard, stalking me, 

 aren't you? Sinister in the lure, and cover of Erie Death in lantern waiting. 

  Man had no chance of containing me, for I am the women they burned, 

  and I am the woman whom Jesus loved magnanimously.  

  I took blade in Lorraine, and I raised the dead. 

They had tried to contain me in every Aeon, and 

  Here, 

  What could they do, but imprison me some more? 

  Close....

  I am. Too close. 

  You stalking and taunting. 

I...on the brink then, no? 

  Certainly. 

and keeping me mad, 

  How it serves thee. 

  Should I then, make it through, in pass

  Should I...

Which gate will then I arrive? 

Shall I surpass them all? 

  Shall I not, for you, oh God? 

Bypass them all? For who else has been 

  So loyal? 

  Who but your Son and I? 

 Your Holiest men and Chosen? 

  Your sacred keepers 

 Truthed up, and cloaked in the 

  Secret of your Light. 

  We See.  

  And gift us then, those that face him, and lose, 

While ever fighting for and never losing 

  

     Sight of You. 

  I will emerge. 

And may the blind man see.