Like a day moon seen apart from a prime sun
Like a dewdrop on the grasses in the afternoon
Sometimes she is visible with her gossamer wings
Flitting over the clouds, then the arc of rainbows.
One swirling of her wand, and magic starts:
Grief decreases in halves, happiness doubles.
They need her, and so do you, to use her goodness
as an instant receipt for your rude fat wishes.
The never-ending abundance of kindness bestows
On your insatiable needs becoming incessant demands
Because her innocent joy is your defiled jealousy
And what does she get? – Tears you can’t care less.
For one hundred and twenty years
Trapped in the maze of this mirage,
Where I began, I can go back never;
Here I stand and face the bare fate
Or is it nothing but the illusion ever?
As Aurora releases the first dewdrop,
I go high over, down under
From one end of the horizon to the other
Across the five continents and six oceans
Above the heavens, below the abyss
Far into the milky ways and back to earth
with the jewel of hope in beatitude.
Thunder and lightning swirling
The palace of heaven tumbling
The Angels of Mutiny are falling
Falling below, downward, falling
into the sea and the earth.
While the light of Divine Grace
still flickers on the scraped wings,
They become the Good People
too vivacious to be in Hell.