In the middle of the entryway
Of my home in heaven
There is an energy source
That gets to be cleaned
It is a swirling mass of grey fog
Sucking and sputtering
Sickly
Worn out
Spinning on itself
Energy is energy
It can be used for the government of God
Or for choking, suppressing, enslaving
The energy source here is connected to creativity
To my creativity
To my core
To the core
In the face of it
In the entryway
With one hand, I hold His arm tight
With the other hand, we both reach out
And touch a segment of smoke
Our fingers soak in the ash
Then we transform it
To crystal
Rose colored
Effervescent, pearlescent
Opalescent
Sparkling
Dazzling.
Heavenly colors
Which do not belong
To the English language
But which smell
Like ylang ylang
And cinnamon
And a flower garden
After a rainstorm
Colors that sound like
The tinkling of chimes
On a homeward bound
Vessel.
© 2022, Nikki Lyn Pugh
Photo by kytalpa
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