Dance That Crazy Tango with God

A spectral ship spreads its heavenly wings,

soaring through the heavens where planets sing.

We’re the passengers of this sorry ship of fate,

we’re the lost captain and the mates.

This ship sails to the heavens where angels breathe,

an interstellar traveler flying through solar seas.

Is the divine birthed on Earth, or

does it sink down from Orion’s girth?

Returning, turning we ride the wavy waves

where our souls become frothy wraiths,

visages of what once was us, and still we sing Hallelujah!

While the Earth spins through its heavenly traverse

pray the Kaddish with an open mind,   

bend at knee, just one more time

while the dusky sky turns into a pinkish rime.

Your own prayers that reach out to Thee

rise up through the bony branches of the trees

as we spread our span of broken wings.

Praying to be a holy, Godly rod

to torch the sky with Your sacred words!

Dance that crazy Tango with God

with hearts locked into every beat,

giving all that’s left for seed!  

Sunshine filters through the bare limb trees,

casts a ray upon our given graves

as we become a shadow of ourselves.

God’s heart beats throughout our waves

of souls rising from the dead, a long, lost line

of those who were once ahead.

Pulsing within the Hanging Gardens of Babylon,

throbs God’s heart in the settling sea’s bottom

where Atlantis erodes within the wakes.

God’s heart is crushed beneath the weight of 9/11, a day

like no other, or so we pray.

Through the tunnels that lava scathed,

through the caverns that water made,

pounds God’s heart,  to give us hope.

Time has no beginning, no end, it’s all an illusion

in all our chaotic confusion of what’s what.

Upon the Seven Seas our ship soars up to the divine

as we fly over the inexplicable Nazca lines.

We pray to Thee for really there’s only You.

We know there’s nothing new,

all the heavens are within, without You.

You’re within the high Alpines and desert’s trembling heat,

who are intrinsically Yours and pristine.

We fly by the given signs and find the means

to be with You as the sun wanes behind the rungs

of a ladder reaching up to Thee.

We inhale Your air into straining lungs,

to breathe in You, to become just one.

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About Lisa Tremback

I started writing in Elementary school and was published in school and local newspapers. I graduated from Columbia College in Chicago and studied under the poet, Bill Knox. I have been published at Colorado State University's underground newspaper. I enjoy writing almost every day and love to write about my relationship with G-d.

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