There is this thing that hits my brain.
Friends, they call me, say “It’s pain.”
I swear it feels like Purple Rain,
so me I just increase the gain.
[Enemies: “You’re insane!”]
Sure, whatever, pearls and swine.
Spirit wind: “You are fine.”
“Mine, you &$(#&$! . . . YOU ARE MINE!”
That’s the voice in every line,
in every symbol, every sign.
God, your glory, O. M. G.
I can see the panoply
—sweet unfolding mystery—
Beauty. Coming next to me.
Sacred trust. One Trinity.