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A time for Mary...

It was in Mary’s Holy Mountains, upon her sacred land,          
I drank from the blessed cup and held our fathers hand.
He lifted me up above the illusions, high into the skies.
He put his hand onto my forehead and lit a fire in my eyes.
…and I cried…
…happy to be alive…
As quickly as he had picked me up I thought it time I’d let go,
And I fell from the skies, for a time, into the unknown below,
An innocent angle that I’d had was stripped away in the fall,
Everything was getting bigger now that, at first, was very small.
This vividness before me was too raw for me to except,
And when I hit the ground, I just laid there as thoughts crept,
…and I cried…
…sad to be alive…
I wept until I slept so hard I could not wake,
And thus I slept walked into so very many mistakes.
It was in the holy mountains upon a lie that was foretold,
The milk will mix with blood and the heat will mix with cold,
That the mother will turn in unfamiliar ways,
The trees will snap and fly away,
While our children hide inside of caves and pray,
Never again to see the suns eastern raise.
…and they will cry…
…happy to be alive…
In the holy mountains, upon test of silver tongue,
Meanings behind words I knew had changed until they stung.
It used to be a beautiful trance, a slow elegant dance,
But it has faded to nothing after the bigger pictures glance…

(2011)

This one is about a time of my life that's hard to explain to people... just a bit of sharing from my journal.

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