Journaling while peering at the clear night sky. |
Orion’s Belt Now that I hear you in my mind, all the time, coming like a song with a beat and a rhyme. Coming in a dream 'bout the sacred host, dreaming that I've won: I'm the one, with the most! Then come the jewels in a row, in the sky, shining on the belt of the warrior guy. Seems to the dreamers who have diagnosed, dreams that have meaning like the ship on the coast. Three sacred words have won wars, and brought peace, spoken in the face of the secret police. “Please forgive me” have kept armies engrossed. And “I love you” once closed a military post. Three tiny words could be spoken, in our ears, spoken from the place where we face our fears. Spoken to the killers as we raise our toast to the Father and the Son, and the Holy Ghost! Three little jewels sparkling high, in the sky, shining on the belt for the three Magi. Seems to us that they’re worth a riposte, from Orion in the sky, like he'd ever need to boast! Speak three words as you raise your toast, to the spirit of the ship, in the wreck, down the coast. The words “I love you” closed a military post. And “please forgive me” kept the armies engrossed. Speak to the lovers as you raise your toast, to the Father and the Son, and the Holy Ghost! |