Gemini Angel Poem by Elliott Rosenberg

Celestial nymphs augur their ability to think clearly with great focus,
their grace frets as calmness rabbles discourse,
an angelus recites silently,
the queen of cups browbeats thoughts,
and finally my ludic feelings ruck into a scallop shell surrounded by placid water.

Viridian waves crash at Ambriels feet,
Leaves no footmark in her wake,
the Gemini spirit longs for adventure,
as an Arcadian bride beguiles her groom.

Zadkiel ascends from Jupiter,
holding a violet scepter of love,
merciful and compassionate the aurora boreal guards,
with unselfish sparks of esteem that emanate from these falling stars.

So now I ask myself.
Where do I stand?
Are the murky waters of self righteousness whirlpools of everlasting bliss?
Do the thoughts that I utter venerate benignity?

And as I sit upon a throne of clay,
mustered of hemlock and straw,
Myopic prisms glitter with flexibility,
to open the heart that rests upon the edge of the sea.

For we are jesters of our own convulsions,
clowns of our own fate,
heralds of sublimity,
riders of a tremulous squall.

So please don't gawk at my
agony,
for it is short lived,
For the zephyr mutiny has congealed,
And my pith flows to seashore.