There is a place we go,
Amid here, and a place afar.
For timeless thoughts laze to go.
A fantasy.
Whites around, fight to save,
And for us, familiar sounds— ground our next move...
Afar----
An elegant cathedral peers out, which graces the snow-scaped land,
Awaits.
Though for now receptive, a seemingly forever nulls…
There is a place beyond to go, way far from here.
Stars look bright,
Sounds, anewed, and feared for a while, become embraced,
And velocity strengthens to a narrow beam.
There is a place we go,
Where whites, purity, fight to save.
Thou lordly face is surely seen above;
It loads us unto a mansionly staircase,
Spiraling to the place…
Where lilies, lost effervescent perfume
Are Cathedral’s grace.
Air is light,
Weightlessness all about.
Violin and flute are heard afar—
Then dreams, it is not—
But then maybe,
For all eternity to come.
Awaken!
There is a place we go,
Between here and where
Thoughts do fantasize.
Though for now—
Soon forever!
Written in about 1984. It is a poem, depicting pictorially, my ongoing fascination about what’s on my mind, beyond death.
Copyright 2007 @ Chris J.P. Migliore
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