( DeiBreak )
i
and endless Tides between, I have seen Your Face,
delicately cast, within every Grain of Sand, as
if Your Presence summoned each Wave,
when, Your Smile, ignites The Sun . . .
from Book III, The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Fifth DoveTale – The Circle of Heaven
( Lo’, and BeHold )
from
SomeWhere,
deep in His Mind’s Eye,
She lay in The Palm of His Hand,
as The Cathedral of Stars slowly swirled,
yes, with The Grace of Swans, They twirled,
for They were as many as were Grains of Sand . . .
All He had Ever wanted, All He had Ever wished,
as He gazed, at His Dominion, from High Above,
that Now, in This Time, and Here, in This Place,
was born the Season and the Reason for Love . . .
with a Wink and a Nod, from AllMighty God,
Her emergence began for All to see, as
Her Wings, They unfurled, while
The Light, of This World,
poured Forth from
Her Heart, to
Thee . . .
from Book III, The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Eleventh DoveTale – The Whisper of Fulfillment
( A Monarch, of peerless Grace )
i
rising, up through The Mists of unCertainty,
breaking Free, of the Long Dark Kiss of Night,
unfurling a glorious wing’d Tapestry of The Colors
of Humanity . . . Each Hue and Cry, of Days, gone by,
gently streaming, in the brilliant Abundance, of Her Wake . . .
every Sight, and every Sound, quietly gathers in A Symphony
of Moments yet to be, while a Host of Stars slowly come to rest,
to witness, and to wonder, of The Courage, about to lay ItSelf
down upon The Land, and Yes, upon The Follies, of Man . . .
from Book III, The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Ninth DoveTale – The Shield of Courage
Anam Cara
( Tuesday, the 5th )
on a perfectly typical South Florida afternoon, early in September of ’95, during an equally typical South Florida onslaught of more rain in a half hour than some parts of the world see in a year, and heralded by a typically stunning display of Thunder and Lightning, that seemed far too foreboding . . .
I, finding Myself quickly running out of available real estate that had not yet been recently and mightily scorched to Oblivion by any one of the passing Bolts of electrified Mayhem, and, also finding Myself acting as the tallest item within 200 yards, carefully threaded My way over to My Truck, parked across the now darkening and deserted construction site, under and quite close to the trunk of a large, and well-endowed South Florida Pine Tree . . .
the Quirk of Fate had strategically placed the Pine Tree immediately adjacent to the driver’s side of My Truck, so, while standing between the half-opened Door, with My back a mere inch or two away from the cold, damp bark of The Tree, and My feet firmly planted upon it’s roots, It happened . . .
because I usually wear a beat-up black Fedora, whose brim occludes any up-ward peripheral Vision, I never saw the Flash of Light, and with My left Hand now firmly fused with the door handle, I began to wonder about a strangely remarkable Sensation cruising up the length of My body, and All in the Time it takes to blink . . .
just now, and almost four Years later, I have had a quiet little Notion enter My thoughts, that, on the surface it seems trivial, yet it provokes a deeper Pause when examined by My heart, is the lonely little Fact, that the feeling, of this Light, came long before the Sound, of It’s Thunder . . .
when I finally gathered enough of My wits to decide to get in out of the Reign, wet, shivering, hyper-ventilating, and quite sure my heart was about to explode, I huddled in the cab of My Truck, staring at the radio, listening to NPR’s broadcast of a Man named Cal Ripken, who had broken a long-standing record held by another Champion, of long Ago, of one Lou Gehrig, known, to those who remember Him fondly, for His courage, and His fortitude, only as, the Iron Horse . . .
and out of The Past and over the AirWaves, spoken on July 4th, 1939 at Yankee Stadium during his farewell speech to the game of baseball, came His Voice . . .
“ . . . and I am the luckiest Man, on The Face of The Earth . . . ”
it was 4:02pm . . .
the Lightning had cleaved a smoking gash, high up on a major limb of The Tree, and would likely prove to be a mortal wound one day, yet it’s significance has left a lasting Impression upon the course of My life, and My world, and My Universe . . . and My left Hand, still . . . hums . . .
then, as now, when asked by those who have endured the telling of My Story, what, exactly, did it ~feeeel~ like, to be struck by Lightning, My answer, Ever was, and will Always be, simply, two five-letter words, and they, are Glory, and Grace . . .
07/08/1999
from Book I, The Ring ( First Light ) The Seventh DoveTale – The Pageant of Lilies
and the inevitable PostScript of this, is that during the 6 months immediately following this amazing and surely life-altering event, I wrote the first 700 pages of a Story, called The Voyage of Kings . . . and, nine days short of 16 years later, there is no End, in sight . . .
( is heard )
Morning’s Dove, a high Coo . . .
( and She, is 17 )
from Book I, The Ring ( First Light ) The Second DoveTale – The Pillow of Hope
^^
^^
~~~~*
~~~*
Once,
* * * * * * * * * *
and upon The Return of Ever,
in The Time called Ever Again,
She as Always, welcomes Him,
for She knows of the Folly of Men,
For
* * * * * * * * * * *
They are Those that Always search,
along Paths They have already Been,
They are Those that will Always seek,
what was here before Ever knew When,
So
* * * * * * * * * *
She hands Him The Cloak of Simplicity,
and this, So made for Ever, She knows,
for within The Cloak, So wove Her Smile,
that is more lovely than the loveliest Rose,
And
* * * * * * * * * *
to Him, She says, this is The Cloak of
Simplicity, wear It, where Ever You go,
if You doubt the loveliness of My Smile,
turn around, and Ever will Always know,
Because
She, in Her Heart, for Ever dreams,
and in Her Heart, She Always will,
in Her Eyes, His Light will shine,
so for Always, He is Ever, Still . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
from Book III, The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Twelfth DoveTale – The Symphony of Moments
( of Love )
while I can only imagine, The Essence of Your Bouquet,
You are, as a Rose or a very fine Wine . . . SomeOne
to savor and cherish, for a very long Time . . . Your
Words possess an eternal quality, while Longing
and Desire, vie, for Your commitment to Reason . . .
it is an honor sharing this place with One as gifted
and as graced as You, and if I, am so ever fortunate
enough to know a Heart, that whispered a Thought such
as This . . . *
“ become the *
white angels of
a desperate winter “
I would surely count Myself as present,
when asked, if I, Ever saw, Perfection . . .
The Quotation was posted by Sharon Gould
on May 1st, 1998, from Poets & Writers
Forum #7.1893 in of Love, Again
from Book III, The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Fifth DoveTale – The Circle of Heaven
~~~~*
~~~*
*
there,
under The Moon,
closer, yet so far Away,
quiet, though a Siren yet to be,
something Wonderful, this way comes,
and soon, You will know The Kiss of Always,
You will know The Glory of Grace,
They are sailing, on Her Radiance,
on Sunships, on Her Chariots of Light,
to awaken You from The Cradle of Darkness,
to herald The Dawn of The Kingdom of Forgiveness,
to lay open The Gates to The Empire of The Everlasting Sun,
to welcome You, inside The Embrace of The Heart of The Diamond,
to remember, that which was nEver forgotten, The Memory of Love,
and The Place, inside You, where lies The Echo, of All Things Dear,
The Echo of a Promise made to You, somewhere in Time, eons Ago,
inside The Palace of Rain, on An Isle in Paradise, under A Cyan Sky,
amidst The Brilliance, of Her Host of Stars, Her Legions, The Eyes of Heaven,
Their Passage ceased, to Witness, and Wonder, as Her Story was told to You,
a Tale of a Web of Pearls, woven in fine silver Thread, The Thread of Her Heart,
spun, from Her Wings of Joy, and baptized, within The Pools of Your Innocence,
as You stood, a Candle in Your Hand, and Courage in Your Soul, whispering of Days to Come,
when a Universe would hear Your Song, once again, and bathe in the Cool Water of Friendship,
taste the sweet Nectar of Freedom, know the Fragrance of Roses, grown in Her Field of Dreams,
as Your Whisper became The Voice of Her Myriad, as The Voice became The Breath of 10,000 Angels . . .
from Book II, The Sword ( Second Sound ) The Third DoveTale – The Rail of Sighs
( in The End )
We will always receive, exactly what it is We deserve, and
We will always discover just how important, We really are . . .
from . . . The Corridors of My Heart
( by The Scales, of Just Is )
is measured, by a Ton of Fire, on The One Hand,
a Ton of Ice, on The Other, balanced
by a Feather of Kindness,
in Between . . .
from Book I, The Ring ( First Light ) The First DoveTale - The Rock of Patience
