In reading this, I somehow sense that however tempting it might be to find God solely thru love’s bliss, there are so many pitfalls or consequences to seeing eye-to-eye with such a powerful cosmic force, yet we are damned without at least trying. Maybe we are damned either way…like William Carlos Williams said: “Poets are damned but they are not blind, they see with the eyes of the angels.” Or as my late Grandfather used to say: “I went to the dam to get some damn water but the dam man wouldn’t give me no dam water, so I told that damn man I didn’t want any of his damn water!” (I believe this is what people mean when they say ‘digression’.)

The words ‘cubicle’ and ‘rat race maze’ also seem, to me, to bring an everyday application or inclusiveness to the poem’s readers meaning there is a Gabriel and Madonna in each and every one of us. The last sentence, “Just to hear the sound he really makes.”, begs the question: ‘who are we really?’… I say we are ‘the good, the bad, and the ugly’. ‘Whooey-ooey-oooo! Da-na-na!’ Thx Danna!