This Too Shall Pass…
I pray that if I say it enough, an Angel–waiting–wrapped in cellophane will release its wings, feather-by-feather, cover me in Peace and Grace, so Light that my trepidation will Soar against the Heavens as Stars;
burst into gas, alight as a new awakening galaxy.
Or am I made of cellophane? Do you see so clearly through me? Quickly pick apart the pieces of my cogs and wheels–brain gives way to take shape in Power. Sit by and watch the flooding chambers of my heart, and wait on baited breath
to see if the left will ever fill again.
What flows through Your now parchment mind in those twenty seconds; circulating from root to tip?
Flowing
Flowing
Waiting
CosmopolitanMuse 