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Tuesday, September 7, 2021

a prose poem


The Time of Year Light Appears

by Ryan Ventriloquist


            I was on the wishing machine, doing a dance of roses, when suddenly, out of nowhere, there was an open field in front of me. I didn’t know whether or not I should enter, but there was nothing stopping me, I could tell, and anything could appear in a field that comes out of nowhere.

            That was what happened in the beginning. I washed my hands clean of all that happened before I came to that junction and I scratched my forehead about what might become of me. There was nothing holding me back from being whatever I could become anymore and I could cease to hold onto the past, as it was now the inconsequential circumstances that led to me in this field of joyousness leading to eternity with God.

            There is something brilliant in daylight and something beautiful about the way it appears in front of you after a long streak of dimly lit space, floating in color by the light of stars and the moon. You can find a wonderful way of being in the field before you, where your worries disappear and all that you need is right here, in a perfect medley of time and space, where rejoicing on peace is truly great. That is what that day was like and I was so glad to be walking with my best friend and father, Jesus, through this turnstile into a new rung of open air and fresh love.

            She was on the radio, blasting from afar, her light a million and rising. She was in a perfect calm of transcendent bliss, doing for me what I could have done had I walked the path differently and followed in her direction.

            That is the way this is heading, Jesus led me to believe through the meditative quiet I came to in composed, peaceful prayer. “You are heading to her and she is heading to you. One and one equals two.” That was my mantra when I meditated on the eve before this day, this day when everything is coming anew and light is breaking through in the way of the goodness of the time of the peace and bliss and happiness and joyousness and love.

            I am grateful for her. That is the truth. She is new to me again, always finding a new way of being and replacing her old one with something beautiful. I am in a tremendous light of calm, entering the field now.

            She is coming there with me. I can feel her from far away. She is calling.

            We are in a peaceful bliss, a calm, composed love that is brilliant and amazing.

            I am so grateful for her, more than I could begin to describe. That is the way I can say it best. I feel it inside and out, all around, up and down, here and there, all places I go, everywhere.

            She sings me a song by The Beatles and I am in a perfect mood, when all across the universe she is in the friendly way of the birds on the windowsills making a call to the day a million times over in the most transcendent of ways.

            She is wonderful in her thoughts and her speech, brilliant in her composed, calm complexion of radiant perfection. I am so grateful to know her so well and to get along with her through the breeze that is in our wonderful eyesight and earshot and she is so amazing and good and I am so grateful for her. That is the truth. She honestly amazes me. I cannot even begin to describe it at all.

            She is wonderful in all her holy, awesome ways, and I am so grateful for her, as I walk into this meadow before me, wondering what will come out of it.

            Soon I am in a blue room, her eyesight. All is quite swell. She is in it too and she knows I love her. She knows I love her in her heart and in her soul and I know she loves me. We are in love. That is the truth. So what do I do? I kiss her a million times over and above, and make her go into peace of bliss beyond words. That is what I do in the field. I do it a million times a million, for the goodness of love.