Wandering too close to danger,
to charging currents skirling up,
reeling skyward through the murk
past kites and flocks and Boeing busses,
odor of ozone in their wake...
I defy the winds and wariness
that seek to drive me back to safety--
to the shelter of my hall of mirrors
where all I sense is under control.
Daring the death darts flashing past
as if they fly at my command:
celestial surges coruscating
in ingenious fractal forms,
I feel warmed by bolting flames
that once lapped up Carmelite waters,
wood, stones and sacrifice...
For I trust the Genesis, the Just One,
the Generator of all photons, forces,
phenomena that threaten things physical
with the holy hazard of unapproachable light.
MNA
4/5/2018
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