Against the velvet black I see
white rhinestones and honeycombs.
These disappear as we rise
into soft grainy fog.
Above this layer,
the cloud tops are tipped
like ashen clownwigs,
like stiff meringue
pulled in peaks from grey cotton.
Mounted on a silver sky-horse
I ride over a latte sea
of pearly groundsolid foam.
Reaching some invisible path,
I sail somehow centered
into the eastern sky ~
pure peach on the distant horizon
infused with soft mauve and gold-dust.
Smoky scarves of whipped feathers
float by, and backlit streaks of
amber schnapps start glowing
as Aurora rises. Ashy tones fade
suddenly as gauzy veils of
azure and periwinkle come into view.
At last the sun strikes, assaulting my eyes.
I close them and think of you.
I fly to you my friend,
to say my goodbyes
before you too take flight
and sail into the Son.
Darkness
then beauty
then union with the Friend.
Go gently, I pray,
into that good day.