FANTASTIC DANCE II
06/05/2019 03:30 a.m.

His ascension came twenty-one days to the day he left his beautiful body.
A silhouette was all that we could define through the sun drenched smile he wore. It is
impossible to mistake his world-class smile for that of any other. A starlight flurry of
goodness blotted out the pain of our broken hearts just as dawn galloped in.


We told each other later that we had witnessed a chariot of gold sutured with platinum
thread; a glistening chassis beriched beyond conception with spinning, light-bolted
studs & each masterpiece capped with an astonishing precious gem. Some jewels were not
of this world. Some jewels were not even of this universe… such magnificence as none of
us had ever seen nor would ever see again… a true sweet chariot of the gods propelled by
the holy willed power of four & twenty black maned stallions of equal majesty. They
pulled the suns & moons from galaxies nearest our own across a royal blue-blooded, yoke-
tinged, cobra-laced sky.


Our souls, bedazzled & breathless, reflexively thrust an ovation onto the astrolabe of dawn.
Only delicate golden orioles could be heard singing good morning to this beautiful day.
Alex preferred it this way. In a favorite past incarnation he was a Roman Augur,
therefore his heart was rich with fondness for every winged being he ever knew.


Ruby red diamonds, yellows, blues & Tahitian black pearls from yet another sweet time &
place rained upon everyone~ pulsing unified code~surfing crazy shiny-mind waves of
Mother Milky Way. Their mirrors reflected wondrous images. Among them were holy men
washing the feet of beggar men & the women who keep the fires burning dancing a
fantastic dance, millions of them & more but numbers do not go up that high, especially
where numbers don’t count at all.


There were many women dancing a fantastic dance. I was reminded of the Black ladies who sing
the gospels; from the hips, hands to the sky, left then right; a supplication out to
front then down to the ground and over again.. There were smiles everywhere & love, joy
& more joy. If you could get close enough to these mahogany ladies you’d find that there
is a lot of space & a great freedom around each one, yet from a distance they look
packed together moving in unison; perfect choreography like a water dance; up, down,
left, right & happy. Did I mention happy?


This must be the part of heaven God has reserved for poets, from the first poet to the last,
from infant poets to great ancient oracles. Everything alive & electrical is heading the
same way. Everyone loving the same because love moves in the same direction as our
galaxy & the cosmos. It must be the joy of the spiral, from helical strands of DNA to
the great spiraling universes. It is a perpetual blossoming. It makes a happy sound. Our
nature is a happy sound. Laughter. Smiles. It is a great way to live. It would be a
wonderful way to die if there was such a thing as death.


Alex smiled his way throughout the universe just as he had done throughout our lives. He
never cared for anything in the world but pure love. God loved him for that. We all did.
We all do. More than anything else, more than his mind-blowing mastery of numerous forms
of art & branches of science, Alex M. Johns was a great poet. They say the same about
saints who come to visit us. The love of great poets defies profound. Such purity of
soul makes you want to cry. I don’t know why they bother with us unless it is because
they love us so much… as much as we love them.



04/30/2018

Author's Note: Info on Alexander M. Johns 1966-2010

http://voices.washingtonpost.com/comic-riffs/2010/08/tribute_remembering_futurama_a.html
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