May the awareness of Love
settle upon you
as if the discarded cape
of the Archangel Zorro
has curled down through the great skies above
in curling volutes of black velvet wonder
like the skyfall shuffle
of an impassioned chorus of sting rays–
enfolding and squishing and fluttering around,
riding currents of wind and smoky light,
hugging thermals and insights and
suddenly scooting sideways
with gusts of certainty shot through its belly–
to settle gently upon the bench beside you,
undiscovered as yet–!
perhaps taking the form
of the Archangel Zorro himself–!
so that when you look up
from the weight of the last few decades
to see if the bus is on time
or if you’re being forced to suffer
yet another faceless injustice
when you’ve already endured
about all you can stand,
you find yourself looking
into the crystalline eyes of a holy friend
you haven’t seen
in many dogged years
who now has snuck up on you–
a specter of joy arising before you
to rescue you from all those
leagues of insult and public transportation
with an unexpected smile,
a loaded heart ready to fire,
and a black velveteen swoosh of wonder.
May the awareness of Love so described
settle upon your shoulders
and accompany you
wherever it is you go.
May you dash and whirl as you travel,
or at least appear to do so
because of that school of holy sting rays
circling and brandishing and gleaming
in your rippled wake
that will never leave your side.
May it be so,
for even now the Archangel Zorro
is riding across the sky
on his holy steed,
flinging capes of rescue into the breeze.
After all, that is what
the Archangel Zorro does.