A host
of angels
Billions
of souls afloat in the cosmos
and I’m
on my way home.
Like
the brother in the field,
I
dropped my scythe where I stood.
There’s
another harvest I must attend –
where
I’ll be cut off at the knees.
My
horse has gotten a whiff of the barn.
Nothing
can keep me now from my Beloved’s gate.
My name
in His throat, the name He gave me,
ages
ago, when I was first sent out --
a host
of angels over my shoulder
and the
highway rising up to greet me.
Billions
of laboring souls lost in the maze,
tossing in feverish sleep
and my
Beloved has come to awaken me;
billions
of souls drunken from rage, lust and hate
and my
Beloved offering His sobering elixer.
O child
of God, look beyond this ephemeral existence
into
the ageless face of your Beloved.
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