The Minister

She gives life to the bellringer, and her mind is free from her occupation, some say she is fake, while others let her speak for them, she is the God to them, of Sunday morning, and I have felt the kiss of her mouth and the touch of her breasts, yet, her love is for the man, Jesus, and she preaches her belief in him, and she will not let him go, not like, she let me go, like I have let her go, eye to eye and soul to soul, and body to body, and love to love, and severence, and departure, and the present and the past, and remembering.

That Masonic all seeing eye, may just rest in the shadows, neither in the third degree or the thirty-third, and then the kaleidescope continues in its whirling motion, and it journeys to peaceful places of soul and understanding, where you might feel that you belong, away from trappings of whatever society, and dreams hang on the edge of personal reality, and former relationships explode into some kind of hatred, and they are aside from understanding, and their feeling is confused, and extraneous to what once was, and in the evening, without any kind of touch, there is the suggestion, that makes you turn from the present place, perhaps to the wall, and there you are, clinging to the wall, lost to yourself, in a hopeless place, and then you study who exactly it is, that you are, and you are in motion, and the past enters the present time, and your life appears to be in oneness.

Awesome

The only thing that is awesome, is the beauty in life, when it enfolds you with its magic, to your fond embrace.