The Breath Of Angels Upon Me…

Senses alive I felt a presage breathing thru’ my Brain,
Time dropped its hands to purge spaced indifference,
Breadth of science loses range by th’ open Eye of God,
Silent, lay the pagans sleeping in their black holes.

Sweating, I felt th’ heat of a wooden Cross…. burning,
Clotted pine-dust coursing through my labored lungs.
Panic…. I’m coughing like a newborn’s first breath,
As three Archangels whisper…”You are Home”.

Where goes th’ flesh of my mortalness, beyond th’ ash,
For is that not what th’ Gospel preaches every Sunday,
While Time lifts its hands in presto…quite hauntingly;
Senses alive, I felt them all, from a Kingdom, breathing.

_______________~ F J R ~ _______________

©Frank J. Ryan, Jr./FjR
MMXV-All Rights Reserved