My Beloved waits,
Beyond the last hill where the Light casts no shadow.
He waits for me,
A pale horse he rides, invincible & armored
Wielding a silver sword lest some lingering dragon try to follow me to that sacred meeting place.
My Beloved waits
With the patience of great Love and Wisdom
Knowing I travel far across treacherous ground.
Yet he knows
His Beloved will arrive,
Answering a call both ancient and new.
A silent call felt, not heard.
A beacon that shines thru the blackness of a forest that grew up around me as I slept.
My Beloved waits
To sing the song again that first caused my heart to Be
He the perfect melody and I the Lost Chord,
The rhyming harmony that makes us one sound,
A song unsung too long.
He waits for me
And I have come
Back to a place I could not have left,
Awakened by a kiss of Love so pure that it remakes of me what I could never have not been.
Together now We become as we always have been,
Your Beloved who waits for you.
Is this your original piece? I’m not a big fan of poetry but I really liked this. “A beacon that shines thru the blackness of a forest that grew up around me as I slept.” – spectacular.
I am the beloved,
I am the angel and the demon,
I am home and the firelight that calls to you.
I am Christ on his cross and I am the Buddha beneath his tree.
I am the monster, the rapist and the murderer of children and STILL – I am the beloved.
. . .
I am you.
Well that is quite beautiful in thought and visualization, and I thank you for sharing it.
Someone, man – not god, waits for me though I do not know when I will have the courage to go to him, or allow him to come to me. Hopefully soon. I’ve been out in the cold too long as it is.
It is the Self that awaits recognition and acknowledgement, behind the walls of eons of illusion. While language is insufficient in pointing to union, it symbolically shows the way…a temporary and necessary map for the stepping up in consciousness. We must be “stirred” from sleep by words and images that inspire ahas leading to insight.
i am Sirius