born in the gleam of God’s adoring eye . . .

 

 

‘lo, through a Crack in The Sky

( a Rush, of Wings )

.

.

.

the Albatross,  whose name has always been Steadfast,  holds within his unwavering eyes the first pristine spark of a SunRise,  now bringing the long-awaited promise of the return of The Light of Day down across the fields and the forests of the Land of Because, down through the corridors of the human heart,  where once was whispered the Music of Angels,  and down ever still into the depths of Oblivion,  whose memory now tries to forget,  all of the darkness we will soon cease to remember . . .

and gazing westward,  which will one day be called EveryWhere,  the Albatross slowly turns to regard the Urth,  now hanging by a thread,  so fine and silver,  and woven from the Tears of Heaven itself,  and he smiles,  because he knows that his long and lonely journey through the endless Kiss of Night is over,  and that all he had ever been asked to do has been done . . . and he lays his sweet sorrows down along the Rail of Sighs,  in the very same place,  where once there laid a handful of nine-inch nails,  whose traces still scorch the time-worn face of Regret,  that are now and for Ever etched into the redwood timbers of the now complete spoke of The Great Wheel, that Always had built as one, of The Seven Bridges of Why . . .

and as The Dawn of The Ages lifts higher above the horizon,  and flows as liquid down upon the realms of Certainty,  the Albatross finds himself standing within the quickening presence of a moment that even Eternity has long been waiting for . . . and from out of the blue,  the Sister of The Sun of Man walks toward him,  and with a nod from Patience, and a smile from So It Shall Be,  She walks on past, and into the embrace of all that Yesterday could ever have hoped for,  and all that Tomorrow could never have known . . .

and walking with a determined pace,  with the might of Titans defining the strength of Her divine purpose,  She steps out at last into Her Universe,  so long denied Her,  and so long and lost in the throes of blind and belligerent desire,  and She lifts Her welcoming arms up with the Grace of Swans, and to the galaxies swirling in Her Eyes,  She speaks . . .

.

ease My Reign

.

for Her name, is Mercy,  and She has come, to seize, The Day . . .

.

*       *       *

.

and deep in the star-fields of the Dominion of Always,  in a place well within the reach of Her infinite regard,  and so perfectly balanced inside the sound of Her voice, a pale-blue gem in a sapphire sky slowly turns to face Paradise,  where an Ibis,  born Resolute,  gazes out across the Shores of a place once called Camelot,  out across a new whirled now bathed in flows of Compassion,  where fireflies dance amidst the laughter of Her Children of The Clouds,  and where roses now grow without the burden of thorns, and where a butterfly now rests upon the back of an Iron Horse,  who finds himself standing still, and staring in wonder at a trail of footsteps left where the sand meets the foam, and revealing the presence of The Prince of Peace,  walking once more and in the distance, and there at the edge,  of The Sea,  of Love,  Again . . .

 

.

.

.

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in The Music of Her Spheres

 

 

I,  The Beholder

(  Mars,  to Venus  )

  

 

 

if I reached,  into Heaven,  and took hold,  of The Brightest Object

      I could find,  My Hand,  when unFurled,  would reveal Your Smile . . .

 

 

 

 

from Book III,  The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Tenth DoveTale – The Cliffs of Andromeda

 

 

once cast, from a Distant Fire

 

The Prologue

 

A Bridge,  A Cross,  Eternity

(  Before The Beginning  )

 

 

 

i

Far Ago and Long Away, in The Time before Was, in The Land of Because, a Tale of Two Lovers began . . .

on The Eve of Nocturna,  Now known,  as The Wedding of Hope and FullFillMeant . . .

as seen,  through The Eyes of a Butterfly,  called Avalon . . .

as told,  by an Iron Horse . . .

named Sky . . .

      from The Very First Moment,  living inside what could only be called EveryWhere,  was God . . .

      and withIn God,  were borne The Essences,  and The Attributes,  of A Man,  and A Woman . . .

      and The Man and The Woman,  eternally bound as One,  were called Ever,  and Always . . .

      and This Blessed Union of These Two Hearts and These Two Souls,  became Love . . .

and,  One Day,  while walking The Breadth,  and The Depth,  of Their Dominion,

Ever,  turns His Eyes to Always,  and says,  I will walk All The Days of Infinity,

to find One Rose,  as Lovely,  as Your Smile . . . and so He did,  and from that

      Moment on,  until Every Moment since,  noOne has known,  where Ever,  was . . .

  *      *      *

as Always waited,  at The Center of EveryThing She holds Dear,  Ever wandered

 across The Millennia,  following The Light from a Distant Star,  searching The Heavens

for The Meaning of Life,  and finding only,  The Folly,  of Men,  whereEver,  He went . . . and

along The Way,  He was met by Travelers,  solitary Messengers from both Far and Wide,  who

told Him,  of A Rose,  that dwelled in a Place called Avalon,  a pale blue Gem in this Dark Velvet

Sky above Him,  and as He gazes toward It,  He slowly turns to face The Day,  and says, 

The Light of The Millennia,  cast from a Distant Fire,

 roam It will for Ever,  The Path of

      My Desire . . .

 

  

 

 

 

i

for as Long as He can remember,  His Journey had taken Him Far across The Cosmos, 

Far beyond The IcanSea,  Far beyond The Reach,  and Well past The Broken Sound,

      Ever spiraling Outward,  Deeper,  and Deeper,  into The Worlds of Time,  and Tide . . .

as He approached the blue Jewel,  Avalon,  nestled in The Nocturnal Velvet Sky,

at Last,  having known the long,  dark Kiss of Night,  for what felt so like Eternity,

while pondering a place He could not quite remember,  and a Face He cannot

seem to forget,  He moves Forward,  into The Arms of Destiny,  waiting,  upon

      these Shores of Longing,  and finally comes to rest,  upon The Rail,  of Sighs . . .

and All at Once,  He feels a great Hush,  moving slowly across The Universe,

as The Air around Him vibrates softly,  as if The Sky were soon to crack from

The Weight of Certainty,  He knows that The Rose He has walked All Creation

to find is Here,  and just when The Dawn,  gives up Her Promise to The Day,  He

sees,  high up on a Hill,  now etched in His Heart for Ever,  a Man,  nailed,  to a Cross,

      and The Man on The Cross,  was The Rose of Avalon . . . and The Rose of Avalon,  was His Son . . .

  

 

 

and Now,  beyond

All Realms of Chance and CircumStance,

The Story about to unFold,  before Your Very Eyes,

to be held for Ever in Your Heart,  as the Terrible Beauty,

One whose beginning,  aRose,  as One has come to an end,

yet whose Story remained veiled in The Passages of Time,

for Two Thousand Years,

rising Ever so slowly to The Surface,

appearing as Phantoms,  as Butterflies,

dancing across The Ages and Pages,

of wellworn Tomes and Tales,

givenForth,  to mark

The Affairs,  and

Follies,  of Men,

as They searched,

high and low,  for The Meaning of Life,

as They searched The Heavens,  for The Truth,

when Their Truth had been lain asunder,

*   by Their Very Own Sword,  of   *

*              Blind Desire . . .         *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

*                                                    *

 

 

i

and so,  the long,  dark Kiss of Night,  had followed Him,

and It poured slowly down,  over The Kingdom of Avalon, 

over The Fields and Forests of What Might Have Been,  to

      The Mountains,  and The Majesty,  and The Music of Men . . .

and,  as They laid His Body,  behind This Mighty Stone,

Ever knew as He stood,  beneath The Heavens alone,

that He had come so Far,  to find All He had missed,

     and All They are Those,  that A Rose,  once kissed . . .

and this One Rose,  while Only Here,  for aWhile,

left His Mark,  for Eternity,  and,  for All,  a Smile,

for this one Smile He had searched The Stars

to be near,  was found upon The Face,  of All

      Things Dear . . .

so He fell to His Knees and began to pray, 

that He might Return,  to Always One Day,

and as A Rose,  ascended,  upon Angels’

Wings,  He smiled and He remembered, 

      of A Voyage,  of Kings . . .

 and of This Story,  laid before U,  Now, 

are All that remains,  of The Glory,  and how,

a Man,  once called Ever,  who Fate dared to roam, 

put His Words on These Pages,  in a Long Letter,  Home,

and as He remembered who He was,  and where He had been,

       He lit a Candle,  to tell The World,  yes,  He would find,  Love,  Again . . .

 

 

i

and He wrote,  and He wrote,  for the next Two Thousand Years,

through The Agony and The Ecstasy,  and The Sum of Our Fears,

and He wrote,  of Each Moment of Each Day of Our Past,  through

Each Chapter and Each Verse,  though They might be His Last, 

so Every Dream and Every Wish that Ever heard since Then,

could One Day fly away,  beyond These Follies,  of Men,

and,  All that remains,  of His Candle,  so bright,

are These Pages,  from The Ages,  of

      a Kingdom,  of Light . . .

 

 

 

and

so It began,

and Yes,  so It was,

under a Sky to remember,

      and in The Heart,  of Because . . .

They came from Hither,  and

They came from Yon,

and They came

from no Reason,

     so to witness,  The Dawn . . .

and All Eyes were there upon Him,

and Every Soul,  had come so Far to see,

what Tomorrow knew,  and kept from View,

      All that Yesterday,  had Ever promised,  to be . . .

while ‘Lo and Behold,  Their Tale,  to unfold,

gazed down upon this weary World of Men,

a Whisper was heard,  and this Whisper,

 was The Word,  and there began

the greatest Story,  that

      Ever,  told . . .

 

 

 

without Thorns

 

 

The Glory,  Rose

 (  Always,  at Last  )

  

 

Here,  inSighed Your Velvet Petals,

 where Your Heart,  Your Music, 

 and Your Story,  begin to unFold,

 I fall,  toward every Breath,  every

Song,  and every Page withIn,  yes I

fall,  Ever slowly and Ever softly, 

toward Your Mysteries, 

      unTold . . .

*

*

*

*

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                                                                                                 *             *

                                                                                                 *         *

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                                                                                 *              *     *

                                                                                     *          *    *

                                                                                        *       *   *

                                                                                          *     *  *

                                                                                           *    **

                                                                                            *   *

                                                                                             *  *

                                                                                               **

                                                                                                *

 

 from Book I,  The Ring ( First Light ) The Eleventh DoveTale – The Shelter of Kindness