There is a dress.
I haven’t worn yet in life.
It is made of printed Chinese Blue Brocade
It shimmers with mystery in the night's moonlight.
As it gradually reveals all of its shades.
This dress conceals the version of me
That is cloaked in mystery invisible.
In between a spiritual world and all things metaphysical.
I have been waiting for decades to put on this garb so original
Waiting for the right invitation
Waiting for an inner knowing to set in
And a clarity that unfolds the space that will embrace
All that I have to give.
I will wear this dress in celebration
Of the unions that will be formed and friendships born
And as I slip on this dress I will become a conduit,
A messenger that will bring communication that is needed.
As I dip my quill in ink, I will create in word content, Poetry
At which time this dress which I have never worn
Will unfold a manifesto and decree of this sacred version of me.