Epiphanist

Love is a bit like the dampness that comes after persistent rain.

Love is a bit like the air that fills the sky and every tiny space.
The birds fly in it, the wind blows in it, but we never see it.

Love is most like gravity.

A tiny force between me and the sun that holds a mighty planet in orbit.
A force that weighs my foot to the ground and links me to every point of the universe.

A mysterious, invisible, undeniable connection between you and me.

© 2008 Epiphanist

I dreamed that you were afraid of your angel,
shadowing your sweet curls,
a burly man
with unruly hair and untidy beard,
dressed in a red t shirt and jeans.

I held out my arm to stop him
but he passed almost straight through,
and wakened me in a ghostly moment
from another space where,
maybe, that ghost is me.

Question: Do you believe in religion?

Answer: When someone is persistently moved in a psychic or spiritual way, that can become a faith.

If that faith is shared or contagious, it can become a religion.

If someone charismatic has that faith, or if someone is particularly aware of that faith, they can become a priest or a prophet.

De guerre
Digger,
Digger
De guerre.
My soldier,
my soldier.
My grandfather fought in France
was wounded, was wounded.
His name on a plaque
beneath a tree in the Avenue
of Honour at Ballarat.
My great uncle
fought with him and died,
was buried in France.
Grandfather left
his mother,
two sisters
to fight with his brother,
the awful flu
it took
his mother,
one sister.
De guerre
Digger,
Digger
De guerre.
Digger
De guerre,
De guerre
Digger.
A little plaque’s
beneath a tree
for ‘nother soldier killed
in Gallipoli.
My soldier,
my soldier.
Angelic muse,
my soldier.