In The AfterGlow

 

 

Still Falling,  Higher

(  of Wings,  and Prayers  )

 

 

a delicate,  pale-blue Sparrow,  without even a Name or a Number,  and fresh from The Shores of a pale-blue Gem in a dark velvet Sky,  called Avalon,  stares with unblinking Eyes upon the vast,  and venomous Maw of Oblivion,  waiting,  well past The Reach,  and just beyond The Edge,  of Her fading,  and now forgotten,  unCertainty . . .

She is poised,  not by dare nor design,  yet knowing,  beyond a Shadow of Doubt,  that All that has come to Pass,  ended,  Here,  and,  as sure as the very next Breath She will take during this Journey,  will begin the First Moments,  of All that will come to Be . . .

and so Far,  She has flown,  so Far,  from The Fields and The Forests,  of SomeTime When,  carrying with Her,  The Dreams,  The Desires,  and The Music of Men . . .

and while this Night begins to pale from The Light of The One,  and The Moon slowly turns,  once More,  to face The Advent of The Sun,  whose Smile,  heralds Her Return,  to The Land,  of Love,  Again . . .

and,  with a final Thrust,  born from The Strength of Her Conviction and Courage,  She pushes off from Her Place upon The Hopes of Humanity,  with Wings outstretched to embrace the eternal Whispers of God,  which will guide Her,  unerringly,  into the wide and waiting Arms of FullFillMeant,  and knowing,  so well,  as She soars at Last into The Absence of Her Fear,  that behind Her,  lifting high into The Realm of Their Significance,  and,  with The Might of The Majesty of Titans,  come Tens,  of Thousands,  More . . .

 

 

Still Falling,  Higher

(  of Wings,  and Prayers  )

 

 

i

A delicate,  pale-blue Sparrow,  without even a Name or a Number,  and fresh from The Shores

of a pale-blue Gem in a dark velvet Sky,  called Avalon,  stares with unblinking Eyes

upon the vast,  and venomous Maw of Oblivion,  waiting,  well past The Reach, 

      and just beyond The Edge,  of Her fading,  and now forgotten,  unCertainty . . .

She is poised,  not by dare nor design,  yet knowing,  beyond a Shadow of Doubt,

that All that has come to Pass,  ended Here,  and as sure as the very next Breath She

     will take during this Journey,  will begin the very First Moments,  of All that will come to Be . . .

and so Far,  She has flown,  so Far from The Fields and The Forests,  of SomeTime When,

carrying with Her,  The Dreams,  The Desires,  and The Music of Men,  and while this Night

begins to pale from The Light of The One,  and The Moon slowly turns once More,  to face

     The Advent of The Sun,  whose Smile,  heralds Her Return to The Land of Love,  Again . . .

 and,  with a final Thrust,  born from The Strength of Her Conviction and Courage,

She pushes off from Her Place upon The Hopes of Humanity,  with Wings

outstretched to embrace the eternal Whispers of God,  which will

guide Her,  unerringly,  into these waiting Arms of

FullFillMeant,  and knowing,  so well,

as She soars at Last,  into The Absence of Her Fear,

that behind Her,  lifting high into The Realm of Their Significance,

     and,  with The Might of The Majesty of Titans,  come Tens,  of Thousands,  More . . .

 

 

from The Voyage of Kings – A StoryTeller’s Dream,  Dream III

 

written in Honor of the Mother of My Son,  who passed from this Life,  in June of 2011

 

 

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