Salvador Dali People

In God, we become one of we,  of us, altogether,

still separate entities,

floating free, for this is how it has to be.

Within this aural atmosphere that emanates off you and me, or what we conceive ourselves to be,

we reach for God! To entwine!  To entwine our entities!

 

For so many,

a labyrinth full of open doors, crawls up and

down, so many patterned floors,

they’re in search of what was once before. 

Sabbath days, you feel closer, closer to Him.

 In well worn books

He/She shines behind

a skyline of sentences that

step away, within this quietude that we partake,

within the sounds that we

create,

we pray His words,

a fragile, twisted thread

that we must  follow,

we’re wedded souls

to Him/Her, for there’s nothing more.

Through the shifting sands,

we’re Salvador Dali people,

on an oblique plain,

standing upon the brink of our existence,

which way we’ll float?

We don’t know.

Time warps  as we reach out towards God,

with clenched hands,

with a pensive stare,

crouched, alone, weeping to be one

with Him/Her again.