The Spiritual Path Is Soft

When I sit before the painted airs
I see the aura of the holy saints
kneeling my heart smiles in glee
softly unflowers the budding beauty of Mystics land.

Mystics land is just in the emotional air
really it is not even emotions, but floating feelings
not feelings but tranquil bed full of dreamy visions
the soft furs of angels they brush my bleeding illusions
with powders of realistic revelations and little pains.