The Other Wing (Passover 2017)


The spirit, that was one, spoke to me near my failings, one wing that of compassion, the other a crimson red! It was a dark angel, that rescued me!

And the daemon came, the one that balances the ancient of that one name!

And he told me to hide, that night from that dark angel’s game!

The last fire has signaled that it will not glow, and everyman in his dream, has gone so far below. Into that city, where the shadow of Giza lays, Egyptian kings, among fetid things, no souls, to lie in decay. History speaks of shadow lands that lie in will below, waiting for the paradigm of a shift in seed to know. So, it is a story now, I tell of the other wing, the unbending bow in a red tipped flow, that bowed when judgment came. Goshen lies in sediment, grazed in spirit by something came, that, that is, not a son, or a pascal lamb, but a G_D that is always, one, I am. A question now, a question, after all these years, to you as a people, and you in kind, will you bless me this day? And if this other wing of mine, that darkens its own course, would you come to realize that it’s part of light’s own force?

For I’m an open window, that shuts when it will, but my glass has two sides you see, and I always will. Not seen through a dark glass coarsely, what a silly thing. If you look to see in front of you my cloud is darkened teal, and when you turn in your desert, you’ll see compassion is real. My other wing it comes this night, dropping deadly from your own sight, and as you sleep, in the light, I’ll kill, that which would deny, my ancient will.

I am an ingrained tetragram, not an illusion, Eden’s fan, with two wings. I sigh, when you cry, my eye’s red rimmed, I hear you cry. A will of force, is part of me, and my letters fill a sapphire sea, for spoken existence is what you are to me. For every century, every year, from your own minutes, in addictive tears, I turn my wing, the one tipped red, I will fly, right over you in these darkened skies. Do not look to see me pass by.

The spirit, that was one, spoke to me near my failings, one wing that of compassion, the other a crimson red! It was a dark angel, that rescued me!

And the daemon came, the one that balances the ancient of that one name!

And he told me to hide, that night from that dark angel’s name! – 04.07.2017 – דָּנִיֵּאל


When the Angel Comes Upon Me


“When the Angel comes upon me”

Lonely boy takes an ice pick reaches in his shyness, so congeniality, soul is broken in a thousand pieces so tentatively. Every story told in virtual, every song played out of key, every psalm scribed for the kingdom, waits so far behind me. Now alone, and in wild spirit with a love in harmony, bring you now me to a high place, such an altar where eyes can see. For you swore me to a secret such a long time ago, entered wealth just like a wizard, blessed me, then said let it go. Said would you ask for better, said you might become a king, but you said I’d ask for nothing, for that’s where beggars find wings, and it is unto your arms, I know others do belong, and I’ll ask them all to join me, but just right now oh so inward, it is such a place. Better than free, better than home.

“When the Angel comes upon me”

I think how cool it is to play music, something magic in key’s sharp, David must have been like Jimmy, playing a guitar like a harp. All those minors everlasting scales of lost in me, fighting daemons, with a story, they lost the war inside of me. There it was in something different, scenes and parts, no treachery, lifted you and put me in prison, one that covers no lies in me, but brings me home. My Adonai, better than free, such a place, better than home.

“When the Angel comes upon me”

Charting stars, that show a passage, every word a path somewhere, intricate a web of glory, to the ends of this earth, great dreams that dare. Now you place me on a mountain, say stay still and speak your worth, for like so many who read this, your place is better than you’ve served. For this rhyme is for the broken, everyone whose knelt insane, rise and take a talon reaching, let it scratch embrace it’s pain, know it now, breath in his name, you are in such a place, better than home. Better than free, you are better than home.

“When the Angel comes upon me”

I have become a Beth Hart fan lately, funny how the whole world has heard of somebody, except me. I wrote this after listening to her song “Better Than Home”. What a miracle it speaks to inside of each of us, in our broken steps that we take each day. It’s kind of like Robert Frost wrote, and I quote, “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference”. I thank Beth and Robert for such wisdom, it’s a blessing to be in such a place, better than home. Shalom – 01.27.2016 – דָּנִיֵּאל