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North American Dreaming: Angels' Wings

Our lives are resplendent with inherited blessings, says William Burkholder's poem.

Do visit Bill's Web site http://www.freewebs.com/nirvanasgate/index.htm

My deliverance to the here and now has come on angels' wings.
For there were many times when I could have slipped my hold and fallen.
When I could have blinded my conveyance with apathy, lethargy, and the like of all insignificant and unproductive words and emotions.
But I held on, not really knowing or realizing the strength of my grip.
I have come to believe that destiny tightens its bindings around us.
It incarcerates until wisdom's epiphany shines.
Holding us gently in its arms until we see the light for what it truly is,
Our lives resplendent with inherited blessings.
Destiny allows us to skirt the peripherals; to see what lies in the abyss.
On a short leash, we are permitted to look over the edge.
To see the flames and the sulfur smoke rising, and those who have broken the leash with uncaring disdain, wallowing in misery that lies just over that precipice.
So yes I have seen the result of bad judgment,
I have felt the wrath and consequence of my misbegotten ideals, of pride and greed, laziness and sloth, addiction, and pain,
Peripherals all.
Lessons, humblers.
Insights to grip, my locked grasp on this simple thing.
So when in flight,
Hold aye, hold so tight,
To angels' wings.


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