Upon witnessing a Song Sung for Bowie
Beautiful.
If I let rest my burgundy velvet eye curtains
all I hear is Bowie Love, respect,
Art
as felt by millions upon billions of Beings, inhabitants of everywhere.
I wonder where he's off to,
candle - lit, rocket - fired,
starlette's beloved Jewel
a Human she permitted us to see
Where do our Souls live before or after,
or Simultaneously?
If incinerated, where might our (physical) temporary, endlessly recycling molecules go? Do they storm up into a cyclonic dance, then seamlessly stitch themselves together over a new Soul,
a sacred silent sewing ceremony,
performed in a silver palace,
secret, discreet
as undefined Air?
with love & special thanks to
my friend, Hawk Alfredson
Copyright CherylFaith Taylor 2017
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