a poem

 

   poem by ben james blu mencius bussewitz, D.Div.

Self-portrait at 34

The heart of the woman,

Is the song in my head,

The way that it is going,

Is all children will be fed,

The life of tomorrow is weightlessness,

And true, and the one that is,

With me is my heart for you.

There are so many ways light gives light,

To the day. To the love God imparts,

Unto all people, to the hearts,

That he shapes with clay,

Forevermore there is no weight,

Over time, timeless vertigo, her song donning lampstands,

Vine of the spine relief,

Into a brand new expression, an endless exultation,

A heart leaps into the air, right out, spinning,

Lands right beside me and fills me up with honey,

And we dwell placidly inside each other, the love, the heart,

With loving, tender care, heartfelt prayer,

Right from up there, horizons,

Making eternity beat on with wind chimes,
In the oneness,

Of flesh,

Unreal dimensions,

Flawless bodies, beautiful love,

Heaven-sent, from above,

Hearts full of goodness,

Eleventh heaven,

A sublime presentation,

And mountains of snow and wind,

Vertical, her entire flow, ideations,

Minds intertwined,

Souls that are always facing one another,

Love deep that is never-ending,

In zero-gravity, open-air shutters,

She dangles with me tangling there high throngs,

Time without space, hearing another new refrain, golden glimmer,

In the Babylonian Talmud study, life tree ripe,

Where time goes down the river, with fate and chance,

The daughter of the New Commandment breathes,

First, to the wild new speed, caught glance,

Of the fidelity and freedom bequeathed,

From the globe on a string, new years gradually,

East to west, north to south, gliding at one,

The round circuit of the breeze,

Beaming to Kingdom's open door,

Taking royal speed by the river-bed,

The soaring Pigmies all caught up in today,

An overwhelmed and lost, full of God-breathed vigor,

Nation, Whom he has come to set at cylindrical farms,

Brightly, the brothers of Capernaum, cheers to,

Their father, and life full of the prayers, and life with,

Spiritual cusp, the life of the reapers' luck,

All together, long and heady, away to the movement of our heart on strings,

Intermingling led,

With the weightlessness of a new year,

Life breathed once and for all,

Risen again, a soul a mile tall, gliding to heaven.