Celebration.

I offer, in Celebration,
another Gospel to detail what I seem to find
shaping itself within the ecstatic beatings of my Heart,

a "Dear, Lover, I give my sweet and simple prose to -"

to the Beings composed of Light who brought me inward to find a Solace misplaced,
where I had but two feet and a field that stretched from sight,
ever-racing the Sky yet keeping pace!

to the Beings who drip creativity like Puna rains,
those who reminded me of what I possess
and skinned the bludgeoned tissue of the past from my back and knees
to welcome new supple flesh.

To the Masculine who directed me to the vista
where-upon I witnessed firsthand the grandness of a Warrior's spirit.
And to the Feminine who slayed my misconception that their womb lay
only in their bellies - I see now the vastness of what I did not before.



The World is yet young
We are young yet
I am young yet.

Just some stardust compiled and pre-heating
and I can, and will patiently, wait.