I Am Going to Start Living Like a Mystic

by Alethea Eason

I am going to start living like a mystic
Believing with the tender wisdom of the heart
That there is a flame my anger is fueling
Which burns with Ultimate Love.e.

There are places,
Silent places where the sacred sings,
Intersections of faith and time.
My small unlived lives are my mystic tools,
Coal for the diamond deep inside.

I used to want to fly in suspended time.
Be an angel, feathered, brilliant, and wise.
I no longer want to be a messenger,
No matter how many-eyed.

I only desire the light of breaking day,
The empty line of atmosphere
Pale against the dawn -- God
In splendid Silence
Where the day is always new.

There are places,

Silent places, where the sacred sings,

Intersections of faith and time.

My small unlived lives are coal

For the diamond deep inside.

I used to want to fly in suspended time.

Be an angel, feathered, brilliant, and wise.

I no longer want to be a messenger,

No matter how many-eyed.

I only desire the light of breaking day,

The empty line of atmosphere

Pale against the dawn in splendid Silence

Where a new day is always here.

* * * * *

Alethea Eason is a writer and artist who has found happiness and her true home in the intersection of desert and mountains in southern New Mexico.

There are places,
Silent places where the sacred sings,
Intersections of faith and time.
My small unlived lives are my mystic tools,
Coal for the diamond deep inside.

I used to want to fly in suspended time.
Be an angel, feathered, brilliant, and wise.
I no longer want to be a messenger,
No matter how many-eyed.

I only desire the light of breaking day,
The empty line of atmosphere
Pale against the dawn -- God
In splendid Silence
Where the day is always new.

There are places,
Silent places where the sacred sings,
Intersections of faith and time.
My small unlived lives are my mystic tools,
Coal for the diamond deep inside.

I used to want to fly in suspended time.
Be an angel, feathered, brilliant, and wise.
I no longer want to be a messenger,
No matter how many-eyed.

I only desire the light of breaking day,
The empty line of atmosphere
Pale against the dawn -- God
In splendid Silence
Where the day is always new.