I Hear America Crying

lady

I Hear America Crying

It’s midnight,
The trees are whispering
The holy names of God,
Whispering secrets beyond the scope
Of the rational mind,
The architecture of reality
Is forever rhythmically thrusting
In secret, reverent copulation,
Preparing for your Yahweh love,

In the realm where light is innate,
Stars, suns and multiiverses
No longer exist,
The light of Creation no longer matters,
The One God,
Who rules all other Gods,
Including the plant deva Monarchs
And the Kuber Kings with their love battalions
Marching,
Plays it cool,
While fiery angels storm esteemed dominions,
Fighting for your Yahweh love,

From the demon worlds, and below
And in the charred remains
Of a weary, pathological planet,
The lieutenants down in the mines
Are dabbling away,
Inventing pharmacological bliss
No one knows the names of,
With prized and proven techniques to control,
Subjugate and destroy the human soul,
They have their noses to the grindstone,
As we wonder, whistle and watch,
And inquire as to “when”

A deluge of variegated sweetness,
Christmassy, tinsel toned in red and green,
Like a star lit Los Angeles pre dawn brilliance,
With faux radiance and clinical charm,
They chassé down Rodeo Drive
Arm and arm with Mickey Finn,
Ass high, spandex miniskirts,
Shadow lined fishnet stockings, perfect,
Spiked Aldo high heeled pumps,
Maryjane straps and cosmic bling,
With visions of sugarplums, Gucci and Armani,
Wading through the raspberry garden,
Oblivious to the thorns,
Searching for your Yahweh love,

The church bell chimes midnight
From the lofty towers of democracy weeping,
A family of four in the freezing rain,
Walled in concrete, walled in neglect,
Walled in by hearts of stone,
By the gray of everything,
Entombed by endless grayness,
With only a sheet of cardboard
To shield them from it all,
Down by the parking garage
Where they’ve been refused admittance,
Could we but lift the lead gray veil,
Could we but open up the clouds
With arms to the sky,
Could we but reconstitute the bright yellow sun,
As they huddle, silently
In the rain drenched grayness,
Dreaming of your Yahweh love…

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