- BEYOND THE GLASS -
Last night after I said my prayers
 And asked my soul to keep,
I started drifting aimlessly
 Between awake and sleep.

I floated o'er a craggy shore
 Which lined a crystal sea,
Its waters made of mirrored glass,
 Encrusted with debris.

With grace beget of heaven's wings
 I braved a slow descent
To view what lay below the grime—
 My first and true intent.

But once alighted from the sky
 With all my earthly mass,
I found the surface far too smudged
 To let discernment pass.

"Oh! how strong must my vision be
 To see beyond the glass...?"


Then came an answer to my plea
 With ire less than discreet—
An angry crab produced a flask
 And tossed it near my feet.

Suspecting it might clear my view,
 I quickly snatched my spoil
But found inside a reeking swill
 Of sweat from fruitless toil.

But dreams are not as sometimes seems,
 So eagerly I tore
A strip of linen, white and clean,
 From filthy rags I wore.

I scrubbed with perspirative zeal
 But sight remained denied
As blurred reflections of myself
 Obscured what hid inside.

"Oh! how clear must my vision be
 To see beyond my pride...?"


Two albatross from different shores
 Engaged in winged embrace,
Danced circles far above my head,
 Then dropped an azure vase.

It shattered in a brilliant spray
 Of melancholy spheres
Which soaked the surface of the sea
 With unrequited tears.

Anticipation filled my eyes
 As waves of teardrops fell,
In hope their washing of the glass
 Would serve my mission well.

But evanescent hopes were dashed
 As streams of mourning rain
Flowed o’er my work already done
 And formed a murky stain.

"Oh! how deep must my vision be
 To see beyond my pain...?"


I fell upon the crystal sea,
 My expectations thin
That I should see into the depths
 And mysteries therein.

But as I knelt upon the glass,
 There came from far above
A gentle flutter born of wings
 And cooing of a dove.

O’er my sweat-stained toil he flew
 And through my tearful flood,
A vial gripped within his beak,
 Which held three drops of blood.

He dropped the treasure in my hand
 Which garnered my dismay—
How could these beads of crimson life
 Help clear the murk away?

"Oh! how quick must my vision be
 To see beyond today...?"


But when the droplets touched the glass
 The crystal burst with light;
All unclean deeds and anguished dreams
 Were banished from my sight.

And in a flash of blessed hope
 The Lord appeared to me,
His visage stretched along the shore
 And filled the sullen sea.

But as I tried to peer around,
 He moved to block my way
And filled my vision just with Him…
 And then I heard him say:

"When all your tasks of earthly due
 Hath surely come to pass
Shall then your spirit be allowed
 To look beyond the glass."


Another burst of blinding light
 Exploded in my head ...
I rubbed the sunlight from my eyes
 And sat upright in bed.

Dream or vision? I don’t know—
 Yet neither will surpass
The vast imaginations kept
 Where mysteries amass.

"Oh! how I cannot wait to see
 What waits beyond the glass..."