It is thought,in minds of men,
unwise to life or death...
that all is light,
or all is dark...
whose darkness quale's
in the lie...
whose light is ever light,
forever bright...
no, never mind,
that light and dark,
concernedly combine,
whose wings enfold...
co-equal...angels.
He and she,
with graceful symmetry,
design'd,
as gifted skater's,
bracing one another up.
I say, we are angels...
to these forces, were we born,
and if our balance is contempt to thee,
then see,
as thou would'st see,
dividing us in twain,
instead of one.
We are the daylight
and the darkness...
yet, we have not known,
for we are blinded in our sight,
that ego's eye,
may live apart.
We must endure
the stillness of our flight,
forgiving that,
we really are...
a lantern in the night...
supremely formed,
to sail again...
as birds of heaven.
So, go...dear angels.
Go, as god said, in a book...
nobody read...really.
Remember who you are.
Remember, how we watched.
These eggs now hatch...
these children in their wars,
their birthing dreams,
that will not realize.
Yet, peace will be,
that many in their death
might slumber,
to awaken at the tone,
of yet, another dream,
as if...none of it had been,
It will be done...
behest of God, the Father.
Written By Bruce James Clyde 2016, Deming, New Mexico
Photo: Credit to Pinterest.com, Yin Yang
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