The fool looks through his slits of mask and sees
Bright eyes so clear confusing scenes of play.
His rules refuse to hope for what he needs,
In every touch of love a demon lay.
‘Insane’ the name they gave this dogged son
Who still solicits strikes from Master’s hand.
So knocked in orbits closer to her sun
Until unchanged by pain be pure a man.
Archangel told the fool a Word of joy:
“Your character is forged in holy fire.
Now that you are baptized as Mama’s boy,
It’s safe for you to trust in your desire.”
Now frozen time and space awaits her ‘Yes,’
Her freedom is what makes him love her best.
‘Take intervals for beauty builds,’ said I:
‘My angels, hear the story of my love.’
She sees the ancient secrets of the sky,
Her heights of mind inspire flights of Dove.
Her smile beacon rays storm dissipate;
Her ivory countenance a sacred shrine.
Hear astral strings her laughter intimate
Watch dancing dust when daughter's trust is mine.
I wonder trembling what I might provide
Gold intellect draping her royal frame.
Pathetic letters far from her describe
My total gift could not her truth proclaim.
In she all spirit, mind, and passion meet.
The Father’s words to her will be my peace.
Forgive me, as I come again to you,
As prudent as my bleeding heart can sow,
Pray acquiesce my pure intention through,
Although my cross and gift together go.
Eros’ rise and fall my heart knows well;
My love awakens not from vain pursuits.
The movement of my soul the Gospels tell
This incense rises with the signs of fruits.
Your quicker mind may judge my tongue too slow
Or guess me weak by all the ways I move,
But child in I from hiding shyly go
Trauma’s kingship time and mercy prove.
The inquisition questions late at night…
Has colored love lost frequency with light?
Lament, I failed to cite the vision right,
Twelve moons ago had God my sister shown.
Not seven deaths enough for angel fight
I see and feel no healing help to Home.
By force she stole my eyes to rise to hers
She snatched me from my steady shadow pace.
Mused on my work and pushed into my hurt,
But all the while a child tempting grace.
I hid affection under wise demand,
‘till Father flashing glimpse my future gave.
We loved the same Jem by the watchers’ hand,
To both deny the lie that made us slaves:
To modify our modesty's display,
Easing notions from emotion's mage,
By lighting on the nighted thoughts that cage,
Through faith in waking resurrection space.
When her Maria saw Joseph in me:
I WAS her secret garden Eden tree.
But never that, detach, I drift away
Uprooted youth returns to forest frame.
Finally, our timeline rhymed with late
Through the scanner darkly singing wait.
Walking lost across the retina of God
Too small to see the vision that ascends
We learned to learn the meaning of the rod
To dance with discipline and not pretense.
St. Francis of Assisi, pray for us!
Cole Anson Augustine Viscichini