was it the attraction of the stain glass
some visceral call of the past
giving it one more shot
a connection previously forged in karmic state
finding threads of the impossible maze
a jigsaw i threw away with childhood
that has returned to haunt me
countless evenings i spent staring
into flickering candle light
the soporific murmurings
echoed within wafts of incense
praying that the Italian waiter
in Napolis Bar would fall in love with me
making bets with myself
as to which would be the last candle
snuffed out
studying my eyelashes reflected
in my silver watch band
i have pulled the puzzle apart
examined each piece
a complete picture but i've missed something
in my reality of a lifetime past
the little golden tabernacle does not speak to me
the nearest thing i got to feeling that Divine
Presence apart from the Brandenburgs
was being curled up in bed
with you under a fur rug,
the silent tv still flickering
nodding off to the snoring
of two bengal boys outstretched
in front of the fire
Oh, that last stanza was soooo sensual.
ReplyDeleteA really lovely read :)
Thank you Bren.
Delete..two bengali boys and a fire place..
ReplyDeletethe image is so persuasive, I don't know why!
Good stuff!
..the two bengals are my cats...not my houseboys..ROFL
Deletei surely think you found a rather divine moment there in the end and i think that the divine is not limited to stain glass and hard pews...
ReplyDeleteAgree..they are hard aren't they!
DeleteAlways, always the search for the divine behind those curtains of stained glass... and perhaps, as you say, the fact that one tries is some measure of faith, if not full marks then partial credit. Well done!
ReplyDeleteThank you Semaphore..
Delete