a poem about how a young girl survives

Quote by: Michael Bassey Johnson
“Beyond the veil lies what our eyes cannot see, skin cannot feel and consciousness cannot absorb.”

A parting thought in the middle of ordinary time
flesh wants to stay but the heart wants to soar
inside a broken temple the intervals of misery persist,
and so she flies into a world, untouchable as the dawn;
She is a castaway in a land far away
a daydreamer disentangled from the rip tide of reality
a torn vessel gliding through a shroud, most High.
Forty cubits long and twenty cubits wide
she fits in the palm of His hand, like a small Jesus.
It takes three hundred Sacred Angels
to appease her ear-shattering cries
Each time she flies here to this place,
her wistful sadness disappears.

This is a place where all good girls go to die
where the agatat sound of a tearing veil
and the arcanum whisper of God prevails,
a place where a child is heard and paried, in love.