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2/6/2007 5:00:00 PM
Poets of the Angels
Feet sandaled with dreams
tread paths of vision leading
to wisdom’s sharp peaks.
On a bridge spanning
earth’s delights and heaven’s tears
jeweled throats shine psalms.
Stars ink your fingers
with a lexicon of flame
blazing rare knowledge.
Hurricanes grow calm
for the pleasure of hearing
your souls’ hidden rhymes.
You are the hybrids
of golden worlds and ages
splendidly conceived.
To accommodate
humanity’s whims, gore floods
your cleanest pages.
In obedience
to eternity’s beauty
prayers cloak your heart.
Your pain is a school
unto itself––and your joy
a lovely temple.
Syllables gathered
on the shores of your genius
sing moonbright wonders.
Yours is a language
of parables made classic
by love’s sweet anguish.
The same hot lightning
that burns your blood with passion––
cools your fears with peace.
By Midnight Skylark Aberjhani
© 1/30/2007
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