The Other Wing (Passover 2017)


The spirit, that was one, spoke to me near my failings, one wing that of compassion, the other a crimson red! It was a dark angel, that rescued me!

And the daemon came, the one that balances the ancient of that one name!

And he told me to hide, that night from that dark angel’s game!

The last fire has signaled that it will not glow, and everyman in his dream, has gone so far below. Into that city, where the shadow of Giza lays, Egyptian kings, among fetid things, no souls, to lie in decay. History speaks of shadow lands that lie in will below, waiting for the paradigm of a shift in seed to know. So, it is a story now, I tell of the other wing, the unbending bow in a red tipped flow, that bowed when judgment came. Goshen lies in sediment, grazed in spirit by something came, that, that is, not a son, or a pascal lamb, but a G_D that is always, one, I am. A question now, a question, after all these years, to you as a people, and you in kind, will you bless me this day? And if this other wing of mine, that darkens its own course, would you come to realize that it’s part of light’s own force?

For I’m an open window, that shuts when it will, but my glass has two sides you see, and I always will. Not seen through a dark glass coarsely, what a silly thing. If you look to see in front of you my cloud is darkened teal, and when you turn in your desert, you’ll see compassion is real. My other wing it comes this night, dropping deadly from your own sight, and as you sleep, in the light, I’ll kill, that which would deny, my ancient will.

I am an ingrained tetragram, not an illusion, Eden’s fan, with two wings. I sigh, when you cry, my eye’s red rimmed, I hear you cry. A will of force, is part of me, and my letters fill a sapphire sea, for spoken existence is what you are to me. For every century, every year, from your own minutes, in addictive tears, I turn my wing, the one tipped red, I will fly, right over you in these darkened skies. Do not look to see me pass by.

The spirit, that was one, spoke to me near my failings, one wing that of compassion, the other a crimson red! It was a dark angel, that rescued me!

And the daemon came, the one that balances the ancient of that one name!

And he told me to hide, that night from that dark angel’s name! – 04.07.2017 – דָּנִיֵּאל


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49 thoughts on “The Other Wing (Passover 2017)

  1. “For I’m an open window, that shuts when it will, but my glass has two sides you see, and I always will. Not seen through a dark glass coarsely, what a silly thing.” My favorite line, and I saw what you did there. 😉

  2. Wonderful and dark, presenting the balance of all that your G_D surely is to you and I’m beginning to think to me. You inspire me to live with your words Daniel. You are a prophet!

  3. Happy Passover Daniel. The compassion and judgment are one, and you have described that one in the most fantastic way. ❤ Delta

  4. Very beautifully written, Daniel! I was raised Catholic, and so we know the same G-D. I know the angels and demons, and celebrate Passover with friends now and again.
    Lol, sometimes they come for a Christmas or Easter feast with us.
    I wish you a wonderful Passover, and many more, dear Daniel! ⭐
    Oh, and I wish you many more prose poems and Hardy Boys!

    • What a wonderful comment Resa, thank you so much. Wishing you a wonderful passover and Easter. It’s a great time of the year. So the next Hardy Boy story is in the beginning stages of construction. 😉

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