Traversing eternity and infinity along an angel’s superluminal blade,
it was I that was re-made into a bridge,
in a golden form, with rose gold skin and sunset curls of hair,
I looked with eyes each with thousands of black and white pupils,
arranged in sacred formation,
as I saw in and through darkness and light,
that all is God.
My 6 wings stretch out and spread now,
into dimensions beyond the veil and ken of this planet,
so while the swirling storm of this world
about me spins and dances and unfolds,
I remain still: fixed like a hovering hawk,
in that,
which unmoving is eternal