The Consoler

I can see, in the distance, a large figure, Tall and humble, His argument is fluid, not without rigor, Without words, though, His arm outstretched, his eye glistening, From this divine perch, His heart is listening.   As I approach, my heart detects the undetectable signal, Skin tingling; I feel I’m melting, I can see, underneath, the masses, transfixed, Tears flowing freely down their faces, Why is there so much light here? Strange… Somehow, this figure’s face is true, And what transfixes, is nothing extraordinary, but true, Somehow, this figures heart is transcendent, And what un-sticks us, is nothing ordinary, but translucent, Just like this figure’s body, And somehow, his body seems not to contain him, As a cup would an amount of liquid, But he seems present in these trees, Much like space itself, drawing not boundaries and distinctions, And his smile not only pacifies our flames, But ignites new ones whose explosions are Big Bangs, Disseminating light and life, with each exhalation.   This eternal consoler, bearing the burdens of our suffering, Expressing with every action the undeniable ecstasy of being, And radiating this love from his nucleus of emerging, Seems to stand in front of a row of approaching tanks, stretching to infinity, His feet planted and unshakeable, And the row of tanks is now a procession of temples, These messengers of death become messengers of life, He, like an insect trapped in a ferocious waterfall, By the ease of his touch, turns the world around, And shows the water how to flow upwards, Carrying him and all with him, steadily up into the gates of heaven.

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