The Avatar

The Avatar.



There is a silence that settles upon a moment,
A sacred silence, heavy with myth and meaning,
That slowly enfolds the soul, delicate as mist,
And withers the modern world from its roots,
The howl of nearby traffic ebbs, peace returns,
Screaming planes are banished from the skies,
And only feathered wings grace the endless blue.


The cacophony of Men abates, is suddenly distant,
Even the chit chat of birds stops, all nature is hushed,
For they too sense the presence of a divinity,
The scudding clouds above slow and then congeal,
Clagging into stillness amidst a shining sky,
Time ceases its endless flight, the hands cease to turn,
No petals fall to earth and beauty fails to fade,
Then as the numinous moment expands into infinity,
The world itself seems to turn on an axis within,
And for a second it seems the whole of creation,
Unfurls at the very centre of my being.

The whisper of the wind upon the leaves,
Is suddenly the sermon of a God,
And sunlight slanting slowly to earth,
Becomes a storm of golden spears,
The gaze of a a divinity, adoring its creations.

Everything is connected,
Earth, Sky and I are one,
As with wonderment I watched,
A butterfly transform into an avenging angel,
Casting fierce beams of light from its wings,
I saw it decide the Final Judgement,
Its actions decide the fate of the world,
As it settled softly upon one side,
Of a set of finely balanced scales.

For that fey and fragile aviator,
Was the seventh angel of the apocalypse,
Blowing its trumpet at the end of time,
Upon a delicate dandelion, now transmuted,
Into a fiery throne of the highest powers,
Then as the moment passed away,
I awoke from the rapture changed,
Mortal, but no longer simply just a man.