Dante's Heart

After a small wait, and years of fears
Blurring the already cloudy
Landscapes of our minds,
We learn to sift,
To separate the Wheat from the chaff,
To walk the daunting gauntlet, embracing the beating
Heart of Dante, as he weeps
And sees the waiting
Lush fields of Lillies
Ablaze with eyes
Of passion's testing glitter
All to Hail the wakeful Angels
Visit upon his shoulder.
We see that
The poignant truth of cynicism
Wears an iron fist holding
A cup of lavender tea,
Keeping time with
Some semblance of equanimity,
Peppered with the so often enjoyed
Laughter now and again
Such comic relief a rest from the sense
That :
The vindication one
Seems to profess to seek
Is the pronouncement of one's hypocricy.
And the frame for frame
Mirror one wants
To look away from as it rains
Love all around what looks like others'
lives is the bridge to freedom.
And as subways impale repetitively
Through the infernos
Of the ghostly images on the darkened fabric
Of the Underworld,
There are only vain thoughts of desire
For this Prize or that Accolade
Some needy, winking, blinking, dancing stuffed
Animal life peering through us
Needing a brushing, or at least a whitening.
We live a life of dissonance
To reconcile in gratitude the awe of
Women measuring for training bras
Their daughters
As others' breasts go pallidly empty
Unable to milk their young
From the desparate nothing of dust to east.
We drop to our knees in prayer to our Highest Lord
For understanding from a sign in Spring
Where a Hermit closes the door to all
But the Darkeness, only
To find the Dragon at his window
His charge in life,
The building of his own Soul
Stone by stone till home.
A grateful lore of sorts, worthy of
The Royal Bards wearing caps of Peacock
Feathered crocs,
Wearing brass breastplates
Inlaid with stones of amethyst and rubies
The kind so treaured by the miners' daughter
To glean in secrets of her bed
Where none so lonely lay their head.
We see as nothing, the moments
Pass and then a song
To sing a chant for what is gone
Love, a fire burned from Heaven's lyre
A tantalizing candle glow of celestial desire,
Is a Story written in Heaven's Book.
And thus enjoy the kiss !
As kisses gone are often missed among
The fancied wonders, but not like
Shortbread one's lost the recipe for.
We learn to love as birds, and loving
Who is free to jump the nest,
There is freedom ! It is not love that clings
And suffers like a dirt road in rain.
Love, as long as blessed by grace's fire
Is the dance to God by two who love
As burning doves becoming Wind !
It is a garden planted by the Arrow thrown highly
Charged in Glory by the Master's heart,
Piercing two on its way to the Sun !
So I be now to set before me
Prayer and gratitude, not for
Prizes in Hell as here as breathing,
But for the touch and flight to Heaven's dream !
Not for riches and holdings here,But for my Soul
To be a lark of lights,
A horn of gratitude,
A flute of rest,
For the one who holds the
Grail of lightning in his Kiss !
And thus united, all is well !
We turn as one, our place in love
To give, our joys complete
To share as one our prayer of
Grace and peace.