again . . . i’ve been here before

again . . . i’ve been here before

in my Father’s house

there are many mansions

each one has one

won’t you open the door

and invite me in

neighbor

let us sit by the fire

and commune with the presence

do not you and i make 3?

you see, the words not heard

seemingly matter not

for we have heard them before

we just somehow forgot

that our songs

are the Holy Grail of truth

let us sup some wine

and inebriate ourselves

and become drunken with love

and barriers of confusions

which manifest contusions

of our spirit

will chaff and fall away

and then perhaps

we will re-experience

the rippling

and co-centricities

in our little ponds

of perception

in a while all vile things

will be remembered no more

and i will offer you my cheek

for a kiss

and my hand

that i may grasp yours

and draw you to “Self”

for that sweet brotherly embrace

found in union

we will lose ourselves

in the dance of pixies

of muses

of butterflies and angels

and Father will smile

within the abode

of our hearts

what say you

may i visit my goodness

upon the threshold

of thine own

i am disrobing myself

that i may stand true

stand naked

and in the way of light

at the Altar of Creation

won’t you allow me in

that we may sit and commune

i with thee

with i

again ?

i am no stranger

i have been here before

© 1 April 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.