My Heaven Loves Her Gold Sunrise

“There is no wolf at the door, just a lot of terrible sheep. To feel there’s a wolf at the door invites fear to your innermost self. And maybe chaos is a good thing. The immorality of it invites us to do good with what we would never do good with. It is something that frees us, in fact. Do you know what I mean?” Life is where our order comes from. It is always in flux, unpredictable and highly fluid. It has both light and dark currents. The next moment is created in that moment. There can’t be a retake or dress rehearsal. The story comes in a series of waves. I’m in love with Anna in this.

We are together in love by invisible means from above. I2 crows flapped side-by-side. A third crow followed behind. Around me, there was a lot of water dripping. There were large blotches of water from the sky. It wasn’t raining, it was blotching. Water was dribbling down from melting snow and ice on the elevator room stair. There was a river of it coming down. Melting snow became semi-transparent. A good strong wind was picking up in gusts that made me brace myself in my seat, and hold on to my love diary. I’m in love with Anna in this.

There were many more naked trees. A crow flapped and soared in the breeze with stark joy. 7 sparrys flew together on a journey. Her dark mountain of love had gobs of white, from the snow on the roofs of the houses. A solo crow hovered and soared, diving down and rising up in fun. A caw of delight I heard. She said, “Life, I love you!” It was direct and not a concept. A host of bad ideas brings us to a precipice on a different path. Another crow flew quickly to her destination. Zigzagging through the trees, scanning for the spot she was looking for. She was returning home to her base. I’m in love with Anna in this.

Yes. It is important for me, to be alive. It is an intelligence operation, in my book. We have not yet tapped the source of what makes this living our existence, on this bardo, on this planet. No, I don’t think we understand what living means yet. Where we come from, where we are going, and how badly we are off the track is only dimly revealed. In my mind, with the way life works, the future will bear little resemblance to what we have gathered from books. We are not prepared for the future at all, because we’ve got so many outdated concepts about it, and fantastic tales that are unbelievable unless they come from outer space. It is said that Isaiah was divided in half, as was his book, in the 8th Century B.C. It is said the garment of Jesus was seamless. Perhaps the bible is a chronicle of some otherworldly influence that we so badly need now on this earth. 2 crows soared in the wind. A distant acrow soared someplace else. The crow returned, flapping around, with no place to go but to fly. I’m in love with Anna in this.

The sky was a watercolour wash of grey. It brightened down by the CBC, where my heartthrob Anna would be. If we work with the patterns life brings, we can accomplish many interesting things. Life then becomes a workshop. This life is a workshop of love when we can bring to a close the source of pain from no wolves but horrible sheep. We say the Good Shepherd is our master, but presently we must master ourselves. This is a very hard fact. When we take mastery of ourselves, perhaps the good shepherd within comes, and shows us things beyond the frontiers of our conceptions. Perhaps then we can walk with the knowledge of the unknown and The Lord. I’m in love with Anna in this.

And this was my strange sermon. The gravel was coated with a damp icy sheet, like balkava drenched with honey. Snow was melted, and thick. A dry green leaf wiggled through the breeze. It was humid, above freezing. Chunks of ice came crashing down. A crow hovered and soared. She was cawing. Too far to hear for counting, as the trees extended bare branches, waving them with hosannas. Each branch moved with grace. They were working well with what they’ve got. My fingertips were shouting “Let’s go in!” If there is any kind of life that lives, it will live it. I pressed the elevator button, wiped my snotty nose, and found my keys. I went out and picked up supplies. I was alive and in love with my soulmate. I’m in love with Anna in this.

My adoration loves her baby. My celebrating loves her newborn. My caressing loves her love making. My sexual climax loves her hug. My heaven loves her sunrise. My sun loves her roses. My kissing loves her happiness. My temple loves her flowers. My saint loves her song. My shaking hands love her electrical charge. My persona loves her costuming. My love loves her true love. My genuine loves her authentic. My handsomeness loves her beauty. My ethics love her morality. My possibility loves her real. My destiny loves her glory. My joy loves her climax. My completion loves her goal. My trustworthy loves her honest. My cheerful loves her positive. My avowing loves her affirming. My feeling loves her healing. My willingness loves her miracles. I love her lunar black bible verse in my Egyptian box “The liberal soul shall be made fat: and he that watereth shall be watered also himself.” Proverbs 11:25. I love Anna Dirksen.

Leave a Reply