The Voice
He whispers to my soul, my soul,
the still quiet voice in my ear,
echo’s through my being
These whispers to my soul
these murmurs in my heart,
this rumor of a voice,
makes me stand still
He whispers to my soul, my soul,
the still quiet voice in my ear,
and I stand still.
Seep into me, little angel, those eye’s
yes, sink those dark eyes in my soul
long have I waited, mad eons.
now, drift, fly, drown, melt into me.
I await with bated breath, yes, I sigh
lead me to those hidden places,
teach me your secret signs,
bear me on your angelic wings,
to spaces where the angels sing.
Talk to me, little angel, weave lies!
speak in the dialects of my soul.
speak of love-of a lover’s longing.
teach me the rhythms of your heart.
Speak to me of love, of lovers,
in the dialects of my soul.
Allo, here we go blasting off into surreal spaces with the space cadet. So chica’s and chico’s, zip up your astro-suits, pump up the propane and breathe in hard and shallow at the same time. Its zero G all the way from here into the vast empty spaces of the blogniverse. Your intrepid pilot-the space cadet will guide you to a rendevouz with the denizens of the fragrant fog. Not to worry now, the ship is stable and all unfortunate accidents, for example “life” are imminently survivable. Trust the spacecadet and let him do the zooming and the improper mixing of metaphors. Stand by for lift off!