no matter what side of the bed you sleep on,
it’s always the side where the angels lie.
be it by the door or the left side of your dread,
wherever you lay your head, it’s cradled in an angelic embrace.
please remember that; it’s important not to forget.
you’re blessed in the sense of never having truly left
the groundlessness out of which images and forms are made.
you’ve got one foot in eternity, the other on a blade of grass.
every child is struck by wonder when for the first time
in it’s life it sees it’s own ‘faith’ in the looking glass.
in religion and philosophy this is called
the primal comprehensibility of existence;
an image reflecting and impressing
itself on cosmic matter.
but words are thin – ultimately they cause profound confusion
in a heart that knows only its own domain, its own name:
the sounds, colors, smells, the touch and taste of feeling.
look, trisha, the trees run barefoot towards you.